


Smoke

by Fayet



Series: Those Who Favour Fire [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Complete, Dark, M/M, Out of Canon, References to Drugs, everybody is high, lots of talking, oh-the-angst, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-13 03:16:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2135028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fayet/pseuds/Fayet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Remus had a firm idea what Snape meant when he talked of business. Death Eater contacts, probably. Well, nobody had ever seen their spy in action, and Remus would be the last one to turn down a good show."</p><p>In which Remus finds himself in intense pain and follows Severus on a journey into a dark place to find a cure. Instead he finds pictures in the smoke and more than Severus has ever planned to show. Dark, OoC, not cannon compliant, Slash implied. SS/RL. COMPLETE</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. With a little help from my friends

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own them. If I did I'd live somewhere where there's actually summer outside. Well, J.K.R. does own them and still lives in England, so guess to each their own..
> 
> Personal Disclaimer: Highest Rating possible on. I am somewhat of a slash writer, sometimes, and this will go into this direction. Please note also that this is a dark fic, although it will have it's funny moments (we've got some hysterical laughter ahead of us, I assure you). It's also important to mention that I do ignore all the movies and everything after PoA. I just don't like the way things turned out, and as I'm already writing my own version of everything I take the privilege to make things happen in a different way. This might also be quite a bit out of character. If you don't like it, you shouldn't read it. No flames, please. Reviews appreciated.
> 
> Also note that this is a translation of a german multiple chapter story I wrote since August 2009. It's approximately nine chapters long. Originally I intended to update much more often, but as things turned out I only manage to do so randomly. I promise to try harder, though. Especially if people decide to actually read this. (Ha! Fishing for reviews, are we..) "Smoke" is part one of a trilogy, and I'm currently writing the third part in german. The second one is called "Earl Gray".
> 
> And now onto the fun.

##### With a little help from my friends

There were still a few days left until the next full moon, but Remus Lupin already felt the coming violence in his bones. Carefully he slipped into his seat next to Sirius at the big table in the Great Hall, trying not to pull a face as the pain spilled through his body. It was summer, and a very long and hot summer at that. Vacations had started a week ago, and it had taken everybody a while to adjust to a life in calm and peace. Without the students the castle lay silent and empty, a building much too big for the few souls left, with long hallways in which the heat could gather and sit like a fat and lazy animal. Most teachers had left for the summer, traveling or on research in all parts of the earth.

Only the heads of the houses, Remus and Sirius and of course Albus Dumbledore were still there and enjoyed the freedom that summer meant. No responsibilities, no plans, just the days that were slowly passing by. But in the distance there was always the dark cloud named Voldemort, like a far away thunderstorm that might break out soon and bring thunder and lightning, destruction and death, but could also pass by in the distance, leaving everybody with a scare and nothing more. The days were filled with strolls on the grounds, swimming in the lake, long meals, talk, and laughter. Sirius enjoyed every moment in his human form. There where month of this freedom ahead of them until the students would come back for the new term, and nobody thought about timetables and examinations.

"Remus, is everything all right?" Sirius turned towards him and examined his best friend. The sun had done him some favours, Remus thought. Sirius looked relaxed, had put some weight onto his bones and gained a healthy glow on his skin.

"I'm not sure. My bones hurt a bit, but it's not full moon yet. Maybe something has gone wrong with the potion last time?"

A worried look appeared on Sirius face. "You think the potion was spoiled? I'll kill that damn bat and - " But Remus cut him off. "You will do nothing, Sirius Black. Remember where I'd be if it wasn't for Severus." Sirius stayed silent, but it was visible on his face that he didn't quite agree. Mumbling he turned his attention towards his lunch.

A few days later Sirius found himself running towards the hospital wing, where Poppy was busy writing lists for her annual storage check. She looked up in surprise at his rather sudden entrance.

"Sirius! Did something happen?" Slightly out of breath Sirius stopped in front of her. "Something is wrong with Remus. Full moon is over, but he is too weak to get up. He says the pain during the transformation was much worse than usual, and it didn't go away when he returned to his human form. Can you have a look at him?" Together they hasted towards Remus private chambers.

They found Remus in bed, curled up underneath the blankets, shaking from pain spasms. Poppy started her examinations immediately. After a few minutes she stepped away from the bed and turned to Sirius.

"I can't find anything. I'd like to give him a good pain killer, but the wolfsbane is a highly complex potion, and it's still in his system. If we mess with it on the wrong side we might kill him accidentally. I need to get Severus and find out what potions wouldn't react with the wolfsbane. Stay with him, make sure he drinks something, and try to get him to stay calm." Without a word Sirius took his place at the bed and carefully touched Remus face while Poppy hurried away.

The mediwitch found Severus Snape in his private laboratory, a set of clinically empty but highly functional rooms tucked away in one of the towers. For a second she stayed in the door frame, watching Snape working in his horribly stained and torn laboratory robes. He was carefully stirring a thick green liquid with a golden spoon clockwise, silently staring down at it. Suddenly a yellow bubble formed on the surface of the liquid, and started to make its way towards the high ceiling. Poppy and Snape followed its way with their eyes, until it reached the ceiling, where it exploded with a quiet "pop" and left an ugly brown stain.

"Was that supposed to happen?" Snape took a look at the parchment that was placed next to cauldron, observed the notes in his almost unreadable writing, and shook his head. "I fear not. How can I help you?" Poppy smiled at him. Knowing that Severus was fallible made his precision and brilliance much more bearable. Over the years the mediwitch had managed to developed a surprisingly friendly working relationship with the usually withdrawn and sour potions master. She enjoyed working together with him on the medical potions she needed, knowing that his works were of much higher quality than everything she got on the market.

She also knew things about him no one else knew, knew his scars and broken ribs, bruises and torn ligaments. She couldn't remember how often she had patched him up again after he returned from Him-she-would-kill-if-she-had-the-chance, how often Albus had dragged him into the hospital wing and forced him to allow her a glance at his battered body. After a while he had gotten used to it, and so had she. They were on amicable terms, although she would never tell him how much it hurt her every time she had to wash his blood from her hands. Now she looked at the frown on Severus face as he examined the stain on his ceiling and smiled.

With a few words she told him everything about Remus condition. He listened while he cleaned his working table, took the cauldron from the fire and froze the remaining green liquid with a wave of his hand. Then he just stood for a minute and stared into the cauldron. Poppy tried to be patient. She knew that pressure wouldn't help her. The wolfesbane was highly complex, and thinking it through would simply take some time. Then he came towards her. "I have never tested the potion in combination with pain killers, and we could easily kill him. Give him willow bark, that's the only thing I can find now that I'm sure won't react. It won't do much, but help him to get some sleep. I'll accompany you, I need to know when the pain started to see if it's indeed something to do with the wolfsbane."

They met Albus halfway. Sirius had informed him, and he just came back from visiting Remus. "Severus, Poppy - I have to admit that I haven't seen something like this before. It's a very unusual reaction for the lycanthrophy that I can't explain. Severus, what kind of pain killers can Remus take? Does willow bark work?" Severus nodded. "Hm. Nothing else? I thought so." Poppy looked at both. "Isn't there anything we can do? What causes this pain?"

Albus shook his head. "I don't know. But we need to find out." He looked at Severus, who stared straight back and after minute sighed. "I'll see what I can do." Then he turned on his heel and disappeared, still in his tattered lab robe, his mind already running through everything that could have even remotely gone wrong. Poppy was surprised. "And he's going where?" Albus placed a soft hand on her shoulder and smiled. "The library, my dear. Let's go and see what we can do for Remus. Do you have some willow bark? Excellent."

Three days later Remus Lupin was back on his feet, although those feet felt rather weak. The willow bark had helped him to sleep most of the pain off, and he hadn't left his bed for almost all of these days. Only a heavy headache and a tingle in his hands and feet were left from three days of pain spasms, and an intense fear of the next full moon. The pain would return then, he was sure of it. Sirius hadn't left his side for the last days, and now Remus had sent his friend off to bed so he could get some rest himself, not without telling him how grateful he was. Now he was strolling around the castle, hoping that some movement and air could chase the headache away, and looking forward to get some breakfast. In the Great Hall he met Albus Dumbledore.

"Remus, what a pleasure. How are you feeling today?" The headmaster beamed at the tired young man. "Better, thank you." Albus smiled. "Wonderful! Will you join me for breakfast? I'm waiting for Severus to report about his research. I'm sure he found a solution for your problem." And Remus really hoped that too. Carefully he took a seat next to Dumbledore, and took to the steaming bowl of porridge and applesauce that appeared in front of him. It tasted heavenly, and he enjoyed the first food in days.

While Remus finished his bowl Albus talked about the weather in Ireland and the last 'Daily Prophet' scandals to keep him amused. As soon as Remus put his bowl down and exchanged it for a cup of tea Snape appeared. He didn't look much better than Remus himself, dark circles under his eyes speaking of the sleepless nights spent at his desk and in the library. Without any unnecessary polite phrases he took a seat at the table and accepted the cup of strong black tea Albus handed him. His long hands wrapped around the cup he informed them of his findings.

"I am pretty sure that Lupins' problems come indeed from a double reaction between the wolfsbane and the lycanthrophy. I'll explain it the easy way so you'll understand."

Remus gulped down the scathing remark that was on his tongue with a sip of strong black tea. Kicking the only man who was likely to help him wasn't working in his currenty situation. But the temptation was full on. Snape, no caring in the least, simply continued.

"The potion blocks certain receptor cells inside the wolf's' brain. Those cells can't react towards the stimulus satiation that overwhelms the wolf and makes him run amok. It works: The wolf has less stimulation and the areas in the brain that make him rational stay active. This is exactly what we're trying to achive. But this also leads to our current problem. The blocking cell leaves the receptor cell after the wolfsbane looses its effect, but in some cases the remaining cell just doesn't react anymore. Usually this would lead to a general paralysis. But with Lupin the opposite happened: the nervous system keeps sending information, but the cell doesn't react. The brain realizes that this information is missing and finds other receptor cells to be able to read them. Lupin's brain picked the receptor cells that transmit pain. His brain thinks he's in pain, although there is no physical reason, which is why we cannot simply administer painkillers. After a few days the inactive receptor cells gain their activity back, and everything goes back to normal."

Remus needed a few moments to progress that information. Albus spoke first. "Is it progressive?" Severus nodded. "It is." Suddenly panic spilled trough Remus veins and he felt as if he couldn't breathe. Again it was Albus who spoke first. "And?"

Severus had the decency not to grin. "I think it can be stopped, yes."

Remus nearly lost his temper. "How?" Severus put the cup down and raised his hands, using them to paint his next words into the air, his voice fully dropping into teaching mode. "We can train the receptor cells to react normally again, using something that docks exactly against the same receptor cells as the wolfesbane does. If we manage to get a substance like this into Lupin's system, and have the cells react to something else than the wolfsbane, they should be able to process the wolfesbane again. It's like training a soldier, or quidditch player." Albus clapped his hands. "Excellent. What kind of substance do we need?" Now Severus did grin, although only a bit.

"There is a substance. It's highly illegal, almost, well, anywhere. It's also a high potential pain-killer, which is good, as reactivating those cells will cause pain. Furthermore it is also highly addictive, which is the reason for it's ban."

Remus only heard "Yes, there is something to help you", and his heart rate seemed to call down a bit. He couldn't stop himself from babbling. "And you can get this stuff? I mean, you're a spy and everything, and do all that illegal stuff anyway, and - " Snapes' deadly glance silenced him. Albus placed a hand on Remus shoulder to calm him down.

"Severus, can you help him?" With an irritated look on his face Snape nodded. "There might be an option." Remus felt like the wold had him back again. "And will you get that stuff for me? Please?" Severus stood.

"I can't get it for you. But you can accompany me. If you'll know excuse me. I've spent three nights at my desk and in various libraries, and I got potions to tend to." He nodded towards Dumbledore, and turned. Remus was still processing everything he had learned in the past minutes, when he realized something. He rose from his chair.

"Uhm, Severus?"

Already near the door the potions master turned around. His gaze examined Remus flushed face and Albus' proud smile, and then he simply grinned, and there was just a tiny bit malice visible.

"You have smoked before, Lupin?"

Lupin shook his head. "No, why?"

Severus raised an eyebrow and grinned even wider.

"Better get used to it, then. Practice makes perfect."

Remus was utterly confused. He had to smoke something? He quickly looked at Albus, but there was only confusion on his face as well. Snape, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the moment.

"It's Opium, Lupin."

Then he turned on his heel and stalked through the opened portal, leaving Remus and Albus in the Great Hall, still utterly confused.


	2. Dressed to kill

##### Dressed to kill

The next evening Remus Lupin wandered the hallways in Hogwarts without a specific destination in mind. He had spent the past night thinking about the seemingly insane solution the potions master had come up with. It hadn't made as much sense as Remus would like it too, but then Snape was the expert in all things potions and not himself. Still, opium? Really? Remus wasn't really the kind of guy who did drugs. He smiled at the idea going through his head. The others would have had a day with that. Moony, the good boy, the one who tried a cigarette once and nearly died coughing, the boy who hardly ever took a sip from Sirius' firewhiskey bottle? No way, not Moony! He'd never do anything even remotely resembling a drug. Remus had always laughed at their good-hearted joking, keeping to himself the knowledge that he didn't need drugs because the full moon pumped more adrenaline into his veins than they could ever imagine, and if he wanted to loose his mind he'd just wait for his silver master to rise over the horizon. Covered in fur and howling with the thirst for blood in his empty mind - if that wasn't a proper horrortrip he didn't know.

When Remus slowly returned to reality from his mental wandering he realized that his feet had carried him into the general direction of Snapes' office. That by itself didn't mean anything, of course, but he might as well knock and see if Snape had really been serious about his suggestion. Or not. And somehow Remus hoped that the latter option was true.

His knock on the heavy door rang down the corridor minutes later. He waited for a short while, and then knocked again. After what seemed like a short eternity he heard the muffled growl through the door. "Enter." He pushed the heavy door open and casually walked into the bleak space that was the office the Head of Slytherin occupied. The room was mostly bare, having only one bookshelf and a large desk as decoration. The former was filled with textbooks and few other teaching materials, the latter one was hidden underneath piles of paper, with nothing but a small wooden cup holding a few quills besides. A few books here and there were strewn apart. Behind it sat the rooms' owner, casually dressed in what seemed to be a white perfectly ironed shirt, an opened light-weight black robe draped over his shoulders. Remus hadn't even known that the bat had something like a summer wardrobe, and that it contained other colours than black. But he caught himself quickly.

"I wanted to talk to you about the opium thing."

Severus nodded, dropped the pencil he had been holding between his long fingers and pointed towards one of the two wooden chairs in front of his desk. Without further ceremony Remus transferred a stack of books from one and sat down, suddenly realizing that he sat in the very spot many a student had been in shaking with fear before the potions master. But today Snape didn't seem to be as stern as usual. He leaned back in his larger chair, propped his elbows up, steepling his fingertips together and giving Remus a rather bland look.

"What can I do for you?"

Remus crossed his legs and smiled. "Did you mean it?"

The tiniest hint of a smile seemed to appear on Snapes' thin lips. "Of course. I do not enjoy idle talk."

"And where exactly is that opium supposed to come from? I gather it is illegal."

"Obviously. Opium is illegal on the territory of the United Kingdom, be it muggle or magic. That doesn't mean it does not exist. Certain, ah, let us call them establishments have supplied the substance in question for as long as people can remember. Membership is required, of course, and advertising is frowned upon. Lucky for you these establishments have also become meeting places, and I have contacts to care for. Thus both my business and your ailment should be cared for easily."

Remus considered punching Snape in the face for calling three days in agony an ailment, but he kept himself in check. No need to anger the man he needed if he wanted to prevent further discomfort. He had always been a patient man, and if patience was what he needed to deal with his former classmate so be it. He had dealt with worse, no doubt. Remus also had a firm idea what Snape meant when he talked of business. Death Eater contacts, probably. Well, nobody had ever seen their spy in action, and Remus would be the last one to turn down a good show.

"Well, then I'll be glad to follow you. I'll leave you to your work. Thank you."

Snape looked down on his papers and snorted ungracefully. "You know that it wasn't my idea. In any case, wait for me at the front gate, in two days, at ten. Put on the best clothing you have, in case you do have any. Maybe practise some spells before."

Slightly shaking his head Remus got up. What spells was that bat talking about?

"What kind of spells?"

Already concentrated on the parchment in front of him Snape looked up again. "What do I know. How many basic defence spells do you know? I don't recall you being a particular good duellist. But you might imagine that my line of work could be a rather dangerous one."

Before Remus knew it he was out in the corridor again and shook his head. Snape was an arrogant bastard, indeed. Not a particular good duellist? Remus had kicked more than one ass in his time in the field, thank you very much. He felt the urgent need to go back, slam his hand on Snapes desk and challenge him right there and then. On the other hand Snape had been a wicked good duellist even back in their school days, and even Remus knew that Voldemort had probably taught his pet one or two nasty things. Remus had never been up against a Death Eater, even in all his years doing work for the order, but he could imagine that Snape wouldn't give up easily. Still, who did he think he were? Insufferable git. Cursing underneath his breath Remus stalked away, into the general direction of nowhere in particular.

The next two days he spent in the library, gnawing his way through everything he could find about opium and lycanthropy - but there wasn't much. The wolfsbane, as one book put it, was a potion many had attempted and no one ever mastered. The master who was thought to have invented it had blown up his house during the final stage of experiment, and no one knew much about his research. Somehow Remus wasn't surprised. He was well aware of the fact that noone knew much about the wolfsbane, and that Snape had been brewing it in secret all those years - but it seemed that the potion indeed was much more complicated then Remus had ever thought it to be. So maybe Snape really was the hot-shot potions master that Albus always made him out to be.

The evening before Remus was scheduled to experience his first proper trip was spent in the most reasonable way - in Remus private quarters, in front of the mirror, deciding what he was to wear. The best clothing he had, Snape had said. Well, he had something. Almost. Kind of. He looked himself up and down, feeling strange in the new burgundy coloured robe Sirius had gotten as a christmas gift from Albus last year. It had only needed slight alterations, and Remus had always been skilled when it came to transformation spells. Now it fitted him perfectly. The white shirt underneath was spotless clean and perfectly ironed, and his trousers were younger than five years. It had to do.

"You know I really don't like that."

Sirius, casually seated on Remus' carpet, snickered. "Come on, don't be a deadhead. It's gonna be fun. Well, if an evening with that bastard can be fun. But drugs! Free drugs!" Sirius eyes grew large and he put on a slightly moronic face. Then he looked Remus up and down. "You look good, by the way. Also I guess it's going to be dark in an opium den, you know, it being a den and all. Never mind your ugly shoes."

Remus quickly checked his shoes and then his surroundings for something he could throw at Sirius' head. Then he caught sight of the clock. It was ten to ten. "Hopefully you're right. Anyways, I'm off. I'll see you tomorrow."

Still grinning Sirius got up from the carpet and stretched. "Have fun, Moony. Really, I never thought I'd ever see you do opium. I wish I could tell someone." For a second Remus felt the hole the loss of James and Lilly had left in his stomach, and all he could do was nod. But he chased the thoughts away. He would need his wits if he was to survive that night. Pocketing his wand and money bag he followed Sirius out of his private quarters. During the summer Sirius lived in his own set of rooms, enjoying the privacy and freedom. A pat on the shoulder, a wave, and Remus jogged down the stairs to meet his guide for the evening.

Walking through the big portal it took Remus a minute to see Snape. And then another to realize why he looked so different. Leaning against the stone wall left of the portal, almost hidden by a statue the man had his back against the sun-warmed golden stone of the castle. Something had changed about him, but Remus couldn't quite put his finger on it. Something about his hair maybe, or was it all attitude - or the fact that Remus hadn't seen him in anything but academic robes since years? Those he had ditched for a rather elegant combination of a dark suit, made out of seemingly lightweight and probably very expensive fabric. Well-cut trousers, polished boots, a white shirt, and a vest made for a rather intriguing ensemble. The coat or jacket - Remus wasn't sure - was lined with dark blue silk and carelessly draped over the head of the statue. A silver watch chain twinkled in the remaining light of dusk. His head leaning against the stone wall he had his eyes closed, strangely relaxed and unguarded. Between the long fingers of his hand the short remains of a cigarette glowed softly in the dark. On his right hand Remus caught the glint of a golden signet ring with a large black stone.

Remus took a minute to stare. He was sure that Snape hadn't noticed him yet, and he took his time. It was strange to see the man he thought he knew in such a different incarnation. He also, maybe for the first time, realized that Snape wasn't only very tall, but also very thin. Too thin for a man of his height and build. What the many layers of heavy black fabric usually hid was now in plain sight, and for a short moment Remus wondered whether that was still healthy or not.

Then Snape exhaled smoke, blowing a perfect round ring that rose into the air, and opened his eyes.

"Are you quite done with staring?"

A bit embarrassed Remus coughed, but Snape didn't wait for his reply. He took a last drag from the cigarette and dropped the bud. Then he pushed himself off the wall, reached for what turned out to be a longer cut suit jacket that he placed over his shoulders and marched off. Remus had no other choice than to follow him.

Minutes later they entered the Forbidden Forest. Remus felt the coolness of the evening inside the woods and shivered involuntarily. Creatures were out there, he felt it, but he also knew they nothing would touch him tonight. There was a strange energy coming off Snape, a field of something Remus couldn't yet explain or understand. It seemed to trail behind him like an invisible cloak, and Remus had the strange feeling that he had gained a rather powerful protector for that night. But he brushed the thought away quickly. As if he needed protection from anyone. When they stepped outside the zone that enclosed the castle Remus felt the powerful magic caress his skin for a second.

Then they stood on an opening inside the wood, a small clearing Remus had apparated to and from many times before. Severus shrugged the jacket from his shoulders and put it on, at the same time quietly giving orders. His dark voice was barely a whisper, but the forest was so silent that Remus understood every word.

"This is my business, and my rules will apply. You will follow them."

He wasn't making suggestions, and Remus nodded silently.

"Good. We will apparate into a corner of an area where you've probably never been before. It is in London, but rather hidden. Muggles cannot see it. It is dark and dirty, to sum it up. Be prepared for everything. You will receive several pipes and I will instruct you on the correct use of them. Then I will tend to my own business and return to you later. Do not speak to anyone. Do not look anyone in the eye. Keep your glance to the floor or treat everybody as if they were invisible. Avoid any confrontation. You do not have a name. If you are asked do not answer. If you are attacked kill. If you are in trouble vanish immediately. Have I made myself clear?"

Remus nodded again, slightly surprised. But Snape meant what he had said, and Remus suddenly realized that he also had meant it when he warned Remus of his line of work being a rather dangerous one. Where were they going?

Seconds later he felt Snape's long fingers wrapped around his arm, the familiar tug was behind his bellybutton, and they stood on the wet and dirty pavement of a small road where Remus had indeed never been before. Several small houses seemed to cower in the shadows, but the plots next to them consisted only of rubble left over from torn down buildings. Garbage was everywhere, and drizzle had started to fall down. The smell was disgusting. Remus looked around quickly, but Snape was already on his way towards one of the small and dark houses. Remus followed him suit.

The windows of the house were dark, broken and almost blind. Nothing seemed to move, neither there nor in the vicinity. But Remus knew too much about hidden places the worry about that. Snape stopped in front of the wooden door, and without hesitation knocked four times in a strange pattern. Seconds later the door swung open and he ducked his head and entered. Remus followed immediately.

The inside of the house was much bigger than the façade, as Remus had expected. They both stood in a remarkably big room, with a high ceiling - how high Remus couldn't tell, as it was hidden in darkness. Perfectly placed shadows were hiding one of the walls as well, but Remus suspected a row of booth behind the magical darkness. Sometimes a movement was visible. A soft background noise of many hushed voices was audible, but even Remus' good hearing couldn't pick up on a single sentence. On the right side several doorways were visible, but covered with old curtains that once had probably been made out of expensive and colourful silk. A strange smell was in the air, flowery and earthy at the same time, with undertones of Firewhiskey and blood. Remus sniffed, but then tried to block it. Soft music resembling mugglejazz floated through the air.

Snape had already crossed the room and arrived at a long bar that occupied the complete wall to the left of the room. It seemed that he had been expected. An old man, tiny compared to Snape and dressed in a beautiful kimono with an ever moving pattern woven into it stood behind the bar counter and smiled, implying with small movements a series of bows. Snape leaned on the counter, another cigarette from his pockets between his fingers that the barkeeper lit without stopping with a small flame quivering above his thumb.

"Mr. Allen, Sir! What a pleasure, a pleasure, indeed, a true pleasure." The old man had a strange voice, high-pitched and thin, tinged with an accent Remus had never heard before. Vietnam, maybe? Japan? But he didn't seem to be of asian decent. The small head bobbed up and down. "A pleasure. Thought you long dead."

Remus could hardly stop himself from grinning. Taking his stance in convenient distance to Snape he listened to the conversation, carefully keeping to himself. The old man didn't even look at him, but Remus almost felt how eyes from the shadows on the opposite wall were trained upon his back. He kept his spine straight and rigid. Never show weakness. He had learned his lessons well.

Snape, on the other hand, seemed completely relaxed and took a drag from his cigarette. He exhaled the smoke with his next words. "As you see you were wrong." His voice was strange, a shade deeper than usual, but just as calm and authoritative as ever. The old man kept on bowing. "Splendid. What can we do for you tonight?"

"What do you think?"

For a moment Remus wondered whether the old man was afraid of Snape or always this nervous. "Oh, yes, we always have a room for you, Mr. Allen. More to the back, eh, as always?"

Snape nodded. "Six pipes, a bottle Dragon Ember, 12 years minimum, do you have 15? Tell Mr. Overy I am here."

The old man smiled. "Yes, of course, we will - I am not sure Mr. Overy is here, Sir."

It took Snape nothing more than a raised eyebrow to make the old man take a step back. "Oh, yes, of course, I forgot that I saw him just a few minutes ago. Yes, it shall be done. It shall be done. Please, you know the way."

From one of the tables Remus thought hidden in the shadows sudden noise became audible. It sounded like a very short fight. Then someone groaned, a short deathly rattle, and it was silent again. Remus felt the hair on his neck rise. But Snape didn't mind, dropped the remains of his cigarette into a mug on the counter, and turned in a smooth movement towards one of the doorways. In the very same moment a heavy knock sounded four times and a crowd of at least six young men tumbled into the room, howling and laughing drunkenly. All six wore expensive robes, long hair brushed back, dark cloaks, a soft shimmer of signet rings and the arrogance of hundred of years pure-blood interbreeding. Remus barely held back a growl and made haste to follow Snape through the doorway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (c) Fayet - written May 2010/ translated & edited 14/8/2014


	3. On with the show

Slipping through the curtain Remus followed Snape into the small corridor behind it. No less than three chambers seemed to be on the right side of the dark and dimly lit corridor. On the left side, opposite the second chamber, was a staircase that seemed to lead up to the second floor of the building. Only a small oil lamp lit the dark, dancing on the tiled floor and the raw walls.

They entered the last chamber to the right side, the heavy brocade curtain closing behind them with the soft sound of rustling fabric. The chamber was small, only a few square meters, and lit by a few candles underneath dark red lamp shades. On all three sides large divan style beds were pushed against the wall, covered in pillows and draped in more heavy brocade that had probably seen a few better days then theirs was. In the exact middle of the room stood a small table with an antique looking tray as table plate. Upon it was only a large oil lamp, not yet lit. Between the divan beds little tables stood in the corners, with a few empty and clean looking glasses with oriental designs upon them. And that was all, slightly shabby, but dark and somehow strangely comfortable.

With a soft sound an aged and wrinkled house elf appeared out of nothingness. The creature had a dark blue dirty scarf wrapped around it's head and balanced another silver tray in it's tiny hands. Without a word Snape took the tray from the creature, and without a word the house elf was gone again. Remus blinked. Hermione wouldn't be please with that, he was sure.

"Somehow I always imagined an opium den to look more like, you know, an actual den."

Remus looked around. But Snape only shook his head, put the small tray upon the table in the middle of the room, and shrugged his jacket off. Without bothering to fold it he dropped it onto one of the divan beds. Remus decided to sit down on the other and watch what was going to happen. At least it wouldn't be a boring night, he was sure.

"Silence is a divine virtue, Lupin."

Snape's voice was as condescending as ever, and Remus bit back a growl. But then he contended himself with watching Snape deal with the content of the tray the elf had brought. There was a large dark bottle with an a label reading "Dragon Ember, 15 years", small glasses, a set of six matching very strange looking pipes and a small ivory box. Apparently knowing perfect well what he was doing Snape kneeled down in front of the small table, opened the box, took out a pair of elegant silver tweezers and started to transfer what seemed to be the drug they had come for into the pipes. Remus caught a short glimpse, and the small black beads looked a bit like shriveled raisins in his eyes.

Content with his work Snape put the tweezers back into the small ivory box, closed the lid and transferred the box onto one of the side tables that was closest to him. Than he looked up and saw Remus curious glance upon him. Sighing he sat back on his heels, waved his left hand in a rather haphazard motion casually into the general direction of the four corners the room had, and Remus felt a slight change in atmosphere.

"I guess that silence might not be your most apparent character trait. Now you can chatter away, they will not hear you."

It also seemed that biting back scathing remarks would become one of Remus predominant character traits for that night, but he silently swore to himself to stay calm. He also couldn't deny to himself that he rather admired the complete matter-of-fact way in which Snape practiced wandless magic. Not many wizards were capable of doing that all, and one rarely saw it in daily life. As teachers they were officially forbidden to use wandless magic so that students could learn proper wand use and care, but it seemed obvious that Snape didn't even bother to stick to any rules at all. And, of course, now they were on vacation. In an opium den. How beautiful.

Lost in his train of thought Remus only returned to his present reality when Snape spoke again and started to explain in a rather bland way how the pipes and the smoking part worked. The pipes were beautiful themselves: long and thin, made out of what Remus believed to be ebony wood and ivory, with a small mouthpiece and on the other end a tiny round orb with a hole in it. Inside Remus saw one of the shriveled raisin-opium things.

"Only hold the pipe in the general direction of the flame. You want heat, not fire. Don't burn them, Opium needs to be treated carefully if you want to enjoy it and not ruin your throat."

Snape balanced one of the pipes in his hand, reached over and snapped his fingers once. With a small green flame dancing above his thumb he lit the oillamp. When the flame had grown steady he neared the pipe into the aura of heat around it and waited for a moment. Small columns of smoke started to rise finally, and Snape pulled the pipe back and handed it over to Remus.

A bit out of his waters Remus took the pipe and looked at it. Snape rose from his crouching position, took a step back and sat down on the divan on the wall opposite of Remus' own. The room was so small that they could've held hands if they had wanted to. But Remus had different things in mind. Mainly trying to figure out how that damned pipe worked.

"Smoke it, Lupin. Like you would a cigarette."

Well, who would've thought. Just that he didn't really have much experience with cigarettes. But he be damned if he told the old bat.

"You really haven't smoked? Ever? Nothing?"

Now who was doing all the talking? Remus hadn't said a word.

"For Merlin's sake, it's not that difficult. Take it in your mouth, inhale, not too deep, you don't want it in your lungs just yet, and exhale. Easy."

Remus could just imagine what Sirius might say to the take-it-in-your-mouth-part, but obeyed. The pipe between his lips he inhaled, immediately choked and started to cough. Without thinking he took the glass that appeared in his vision, gulped down a good portion of hard liquor and then managed to catch his breath again. The next try worked better, but then the opium hadn't got enough air to burn, and the ember had died out.

Unceremoniously Snape took the pipe back, lit it again, and instead of waiting for Remus to try again simply took a few drags of his own. When the opium was properly lit and burning he handed it back. Without a second thought Remus took the pipe, placed it between his own lips and now managed to inhale a few times more slowly and steady.

The opium tasted funny, earthy and flowery at the same time, just like the smell he had caught earlier. He suddenly felt slightly faint and sank back into the thick pillows on his divan. Somehow his glass had refilled itself, and Snape too sat back on the divan and emptied his glass. Then, seemingly out of nowhere a cigarette appeared between his fingers, he performed the flame-above-thumb trick again, and inhaled a couple of times before he spoke again.

"Always try to smoke slowly, otherwise your brain will revolt soon. Same for your stomach. Drink something in between. Dragon Ember might not be the best on the market, but it's as good as it gets here."

Remus nodded and concentrated to inhale slowly and in regular breath. It started to feel good.

"No pipe for you?"

Snape shook his head. "No, I still have something to do tonight. There will be plenty of time later. It's going to be a long night."

They fell back into silence. Remus smoked his pipe, drinking sips of that horrific liquor from his glass - Dragon Ember seemed to be a bastard child between whiskey and rum - and Snape stared into nothingness, but smoked his cigarette as if he'd never get another one. He didn't seem exactly like a nervous man, but something about him betrayed that he wasn't as calm as he pretended to be. Remus recalled him asking for Mr. Overy. A contact man? A Death Eater? Someone from the Ministry? He was dying to know, but he couldn't ask.

Time seemed to pass. Then, suddenly and out of nowhere, the same house elf appeared in the room, bowed, and announced Mr. Overy. As soon as he had come he was gone again. Snape, who's cigarette had already been gone for a while, rose from his position on the divan and absently minded combed a hand through his hair.

"I'll be back shortly, most likely even before you've finished this pipe. Smoke two more, they are already prepared. Don't leave this room. If I do not return after you're done apparate back to Hogwarts. Don't ask for for me, and don't attempt to do anything stupid-gryffindor-style-brave, please." Remus looked up from his position and nodded.

Snape stood another second in the center of the room, and suddenly, as if he had remembered something, held his wand in his hand. Remus had no clue where it had come from, but seconds later he found himself facing it as Snape held it out to him.

"Take it, pocket it, and hand it over to Albus if something doesn't go according to plan. Do you understand that?"

Remus blinked. Why the hell did Snape want to go out there without his bloody wand? Still confused he took it. It was heavy in Remus' hands, larger than his own, and seemed to hold a strange amount of energy. A proper Death Eater weapon, no doubt.

"Are you crazy? Are you seriously going to do whatever dangerous thing you intend to do without your wand?"

Shrugging his shoulders Snape nodded, but Remus wasn't done.

"And then you hand it over to me? Former enemy and such? Wolf? Monster? Already forgotten?"

Now annoyed Snape rolled his eyes, but his face betrayed that he was already thinking about something else. He crossed the room in two strides.

"Let me assure you that the man I'm about to meet is more of a monster than even you are. Albus trusts you, that has to be enough for me. But don't play with it, it doesn't react well to that. Don't kill yourself or anyone else accidentally, I wouldn't appreciate that."

Then he opened the curtain and was gone.

Remus stayed behind, with a halfway smoked opium pipe in one hand, Snape's wand in the other and too many thoughts inside his already slightly foggy mind. Had Snape gone crazy? He leaned back again and took another drag from his pipe. This Opium thing started to grow on him, no doubt. And did he feel something? He though so, maybe a little bit. Deep in thought he examined the wand in his hand before he pocketed it next to his own inside his robe. It felt strange to carry someone elses' primary magical belonging, and even stranger to have a wand that didn't belong to his friends. He had held, stolen and even used Sirius' wand many times, and it had always worked - but they had been friends, close friends, and their magic itself was friendly. But having a Death Eater wand in his possession?

He wondered if Snape had killed with that, tortured, hurt - but he wasn't sure whether he really wanted to know. Wrecking his mind Remus tried to remember if that was the very same wand Snape had possessed as a student at Hogwarts, but he couldn't come up with a coherent image. Maybe it was, but seriously, who'd give a child a wand that basically yelled "Yes, I'm a very powerful dangerous dark wizard and now you'd dead, haha"? How was that for a gift in early life? Here, kid, I know you're trying, but really why don't you just give up and become evil already?

Now Remus was convinced that he felt the Opium.

But then he felt fine, really. Everything was fine. Well, he was thirsty as hell, and three glasses of Dragon Ember later he still was thirsty. That wasn't very comfortable. Maybe he could simply snap and call the house elf? He tried, clapping, snipping his fingers, but nothing worked. Then he remembered the spell Snape had wrapped around the room. Of course no one could hear him. Damn that bat.

It seemed he would have to get up and go get himself some water from the bar in the other room. What an easy concept! A splendid idea. Needing a bit more strength than usual Remus dragged himself up from the comfortable pillows, put the pipe down on the table, checked once more that he had both wands in his pocket - he did - and marched towards the curtain. He felt good.

But when he reached the curtain he suddenly remembered Snape's warning. Don't leave the chamber, the old git had said. Well. He wasn't quite going to leave. At least he was keen on returning. Ha! Remus Lupin was a smart man. Wolf. Man. Whatever.

Being a smart Man/Wolf/Whatever he carefully pulled back a tiny part of the curtain to check whether anyone was inside the dimly lit corridor. The other curtains were closed, including the one leading into the main room, and the staircase seemed empty too. Perfect. Remus grinned slightly moronic. He would do great things tonight, for sure.

But just as he attempted to pull the entire curtain back and step into the corridor the dirty brokade blocking the view into the main room was pulled back roughly, and two men stepped into the corridor.


	4. Business as usual

The remaining reasonable part of Remus' brain told him to draw his head back as quick as he could. But then he was stuck. Any further quick movement would have moved the curtain without doubt, and sent a clear sign to the two man in the corridor that they were being watched. Trying to get out of sight and then remaining perfectly still seemed to be his best option. As slowly as he could he drew his right foot back into the chamber. He managed to do so without moving the curtain at all, and was quite smug about that brilliant achievement. Now being mostly concealed by the curtain he dared to throw a glance at whom had disturbed his quest for a glass of water.

It was Snape, accompanied by another man whose face remained in the shadows. While Remus had sorted out his little curtain-problem both had moved down the corridor by a few steps, and were now standing in the opening of the staircase. The other man had his back to Remus, but Snape was turned towards him, casually leaning against the wall, one of his feet already on the lower steps of the stairs, and Remus could make out his face. His eyes were firmly trained on the man before him, but somehow Remus wasn't sure whether he had noticed that he was being watched or not. His contact, however, was completely unsuspecting. Remus could only see the man from behind, taller even then Snape was and of sturdy build. He wore black robes, but not of the Death Eater variety, had his dark hair in a short crop as any innocent citizen might, and otherwise had a rather everyday appearance to him.

For a short moment Remus felt guilty for watching Snape like this. On the other hand the prospect of observing their spy in action was intriguing, to say the least, and Remus was one of the most curious beings to walk this planet. It had always been his weakness, really. His mother had chided him all the time as a child, but try as he might he couldn't get rid of it. But then he had turned a spy for the order himself, and being curious was always a good character trait in someone who had to find out things about others, wasn't it? Silently Remus grinned, shoved the guilt collecting in his stomach away and concentrated on the conversation in the corridor.

Both men's voices were low, but Remus excellent and not-quite-human hearing picked up on the words easily.

"So we agree on that?"

The other man's voice was rough, with a certain edge in it that Remus instantly didn't like. It sounded more than an order than a concluding remark. Snape simply nodded.

"Good. And what am I going to receive for that?"

Now Snapes' features, neutral and empty until then rearranged themselves into a strange grin. He cocked his head to the side, just a little bit, and shifted his weight.

"What do you want?"

The old git positively purred. Remus felt his own face twist into a noiseless expression of surprise, the best he could to at that moment given that he was condemned to complete silence. What by the bones of all wizards before him was going on there? While Remus tried to come to terms with the fact that Snape was even capable of sounding somehow, well, tempting, a sudden movement in the corridor interrupted his train of thought.

The other man had moved, quick like a snake striking, and pinned Snapes' right wrist to the wall above his head. Remus heard the soft thud of flesh and bone colliding with the raw wall. He felt a sudden impulse to move, to do something, but restrained himself. Whatever was going on there was clearly none of his business. And he didn't feel inclined to leave his place behind the curtain.

And Snape himself didn't seem to mind terribly. At least he didn't move, didn't defend himself or put up any kind of resistance. He leaned against the wall as if it were the most natural thing to do, leaning against shabby walls in dimly lit corridors while being threatened by some random burly guy and looking for all the world like a cheap prostitute. Great. Now, if that was what got the git off, fine with Remus. He didn't care, even in the slightest. And he was absolutely not intrigued by that dark purr. Not at all.

"You know precisely well what I want, do you not?"

The other's voice was still dark and rough, but now a new thing had gotten into it. Want, maybe? This was getting interesting for sure.

"Then it seems that both of us will get what we were looking for tonight. What a lucky coincidence."

Now Remus clearly heard a slight edge underneath the velvety purr, something like a sarcasm, a blade hidden inside a satin pouch. Strange thing, that. But the other man clearly hadn't picked up on the subtle hint. On the contrary, he seemed very pleased with the way the situation was unfolding.

"Very good. I knew you'd be reasonable." His voice was pure satisfaction. Raising his free hand he traced the line of Snape's very prominent jawbone with a finger, down his exposed throat and over his protruding collarbone. Remus couldn't remember that the collar of the white shirt had even been opened that wide before. The situation seemed less and less open to interpretation and more and more clear. Fascinated Remus started through the space in the curtain.

"I always am."

Great, now that purr again. What was that purr all about? Had Snape turned into a damn animagus without anyone knowing? Remus felt a strange warm sensation in his stomach, but he did his best to ignore it and rather focused on the scene in the corridor before him.

There the other had shifted his weight away from Snape and released his arm. But Snape didn't move even an inch. Apparently completely relaxed he stayed leaning against the wall, his now free wrist still draped against the wall over his head. Only his shoulder blades seemed to be touching the raw wall at all, and the way his whole body was balanced seemed too inviting for Remus taste. He knew exactly what he was doing there, and how he had to move, how he had to shift his weight and cock his head slightly, maybe brushing a random strand of black hair out of his face now and then. The bastard.

A short moment nobody moved at all. Snape still leaning against the wall, dark eyes unreadable but firmly fixed on the other guy, who seemed to examine his prey with casual enjoyment. Then Snape raised an eyebrow only by millimeters, and pushed himself off the wall. Without any further words he turned on his heel and sauntered leisurely up the stairs. The other man remained on the bottom of the staircase, but now he was turned around and his eyes followed Snape up the staircase. In the dim light Remus caught a short glimpse of a rather plump face, coarse features, and cold pale eyes. He looked smug, satisfied already, a man who had gotten exactly what he had come out to get that night.

Then he followed Snape up the stairs and was gone.

Remus remained fixed to his spot for a few more minutes, lost in thought. Then he rearranged the curtains and stumbled back to his divan. Sitting down he let his gaze wander across the room, but it was just as empty as it had been before. Snapes coat was still carelessly flung down on the other divan, the oil lamp was burning cheerfully, shadows dancing across the room. Suddenly Remus' thirst was gone, and he didn't feel inclined to leave the chamber anytime soon.

His first pipe was empty, and carefully he picked up a second one and lit it the way Snape had shown him just minutes before. After a few seconds the opium started to warm up, and small strands of smoke curled up. He waited a short moment and then carefully put the pipe between his lips. Inhaling a few times slowly he realized that he now felt if the opium was getting enough oxygen, how it was rekindling it's ember, how it burned. With the next time he inhaled he felt the fumes reaching his lungs.

A few minutes later the soft cotton feeling inside his mind returned, and he felt strangely light and happy at the same time. Between sips of Dragon Ember and drags from his pipe he considered what he had just seen. By accident, of course. But then - his curiosity was quite satisfied now. Skillfully he ignored the little voice in his head telling him that he'd regret spying on their spy later on, that he had seen something he wasn't sure he really liked, something that he wasn't really sure was right. But then he was quite impressed by the way Snape played this game. Convincing, for sure. He had never known the bastard to be able to do that, to simply drop his coat of arrogance, snap out of his eternal sourness, and turn himself into something you could pick up on a random street corner in any dirty port town anywhere.

And that dark purr, pure velvet gliding over Remus' already tingling senses, still vibrating in his ears somehow. Now how did that work? Who had taught the bat to use his voice in that way?

Interesting.

Remus started up to the ceiling, where the smoke from his pipe started to dance again and giggled.

He stayed like this for - he didn't know how long, really. His pipe did last him a while, that was for sure. Inhale, exhale. His eyes were fixed to the smoke hanging underneath the low ceiling of the chamber, but his mind was occupied with something else. It tended to have its own ways sometimes even when Remus was completely sober, but right now it had decided to disobey its owner completely. In slow and lazy circles it danced around the possibilities of what was really happening upstairs at that precise moment. What exactly - but then he didn't want the details, please, thankyou. Nope. Not at all. It wasn't his business, after all.

In the end he was so lost in his train of thought that he had one half of a proper heart attack when the curtain was drawn back and Snape leisurely walked into the chamber. Out of the corner of his eye Remus examined him. He didn't look as fazed as Remus had expected, on the contrary. With a decidedly calm demeanour he crossed the room in the few steps that were necessary for that, and sat down on the divan opposite of the one Remus' occupied. There was hardly any visible trace left of what Remus suspected had happened. Even his clothing was as orderly as ever. Only the still opened collar of his shirt and the rolled up sleeves, tucked in right below the elbow, gave something away.

"Haha, there you are, hum, that was quick."

Remus couldn't help but giggle as soon as he opened his mouth. Damned, did opium turn one into a fifteen-year-old-schoolgirl? If he had known that, he'd have packed some lipstick and condoms. Wait, what was his mind doing with that image?

Snape grinned slyly, bent over and picked up one of the unused pipes from the table in the middle. Instead of holding it over the oil lamp he leaned back and conjured the flame from his thumb as he had done before, held the pipe into the general direction of the flame, and waited a moment. When smoke started to rise steadily from the pipe he closed his fist and the flame was gone. Putting the pipe between his thin lips he moved forward again, refilled his glass with Dragon Ember, and swinging his long legs over the divan stretched himself fully out. He was taller than the divan was long, and while his ankles did still fit onto the pillows his boots dangled over the edge.

"I see the opium is working."

Out of the corner of his eye he watched Remus, who couldn't help but grin and nod.

"Sure. Did you get what you were looking for?"

Snape inhaled deeply, and blew a ring of smoke towards the ceiling as he exhaled.

"Oh yes. I always get what I want."

Remus needed to drown his thoughts in half a glass of Dragon Ember. But he drank too fast, choked on the burning liquor and coughed, gasping for air. All the while Snape watched him from his divan, interchanging drags from his pipe with sips from his own glass. When Remus could breathe again he smirked.

"Do me the favour and do not die here. Albus wouldn't take it well."

Remus nodded. He wasn't keen on dying at all, really. Snape was still watching him. Finishing off the last sips of his liquor he carelessly put the glass to the floor next to his divan, balanced his pipe between his lips and stretched. Remus couldn't help tracing the outline of his long thin body with his eyes. To mask his visual attack on Snape he took another sip from his Dragon Ember. He wasn't sure into which direction this night was going, but it was for sure not the way he had imagined it would.

When Snape was done with his cat-like stretch he took the pipe from his lips, left it dangling between his fingers, and exhaled a ring of smoke again.

"So, did you like what you saw?"

Remus, his mouth still full of Dragon Ember, choked again.


	5. Something's not right here

Remus needed a full five minutes to recover his composure. Between coughing, gasping for air and trying not to spill his glass or drop his pipe he frantically thought of an answer. But his brain refused cooperation, so that the only thing he could think of was the truth, and in the end decided to go for another question instead. He thought that was clever. Almost.

"How did you see me? You seemed, uhm, occupied."

Snape, who had watched him sputtering with a slight hint of amusement on his face, finally gave up his composure and grinned.

"Would've been long dead if I hadn't learnt to watch my surroundings, wouldn't you think?"

It wasn't even a question, but Remus had to agree. Snape would make a lousy spy if he wouldn't be on his guard all the time. And it was true, after all - he was alive. Or something like that. Snape's voice interrupted Remus train of thought.

"Still what you did was stupid. Do you never listen when talked to? The people I do my dealings with tend not to be of the sort that think it amusing when finding that someone eavesdropped on them."

Remus couldn't help but giggle slightly. Inhaling another wave of opium seeped down his throat, coating his mind in the most pleasant cotton imaginable. Fun.

"He didn't look like he was a happy comrade. Who was that?"

Snape exhaled another smoke ring that rose towards the ceiling and dissolved into the general cloud of smoke hanging there.

"None of your business. And keep your nose out of it, have I made myself clear?"

Velvet with a hint of steel underneath, and Remus registered the very thinly veiled threat without surprise.

"Sure, I don't care anyway. Though I have to say that your, hum, business, seems to be of quite a different sort than I thought it was."

Leaning back further in his divan and inhaling another wave of Opium he watched Snape again intently. He couldn't help but wonder, just a bit, how all these pieces of the puzzle fit together. Strangely enough Snape seemed talkative. The opium did him good, Remus decided.

"It's not all black robes, killing curses and kissing the Dark Lords' boots, if that's what you mean."

Remus tried to envision that, but couldn't. Also he decided that He-who-was-a-bloody-bastard had nothing to do in their conversation or in Remus' mind. Resolutely he kicked the dark wizard out of there.

"Kissing his boots? Never knew the old bastard had his kinks."

Snape couldn't help but grin. Again.

"Obviously you haven't spent much times in his delightful company. I have met many a half-crazed powerful wizard in my life, and they all have kinks. That includes Albus, by the way."

Now that was clearly an image Remus didn't want in his mind. No. No images of Albus doing whatever kind of kinks the friendly, purple-clad, lemon-drop devouring most-powerful-wizard of all times - no, please. No.

"Please don't tell me, thank you. What does that have to do with your way of handling business here like a cheap port whore?"

The comparison slipped out of his mouth before Remus could stop it, and for a split second he was aware that his life was basically over. Snape would hex him all the way to Brighton and then dispose of his remains in the awfully cold sea, there was no doubt about that. Instinctively Remus drew his head between his shoulders and waited for the impact of the first curse.

But Snape either had enough opium in his system to be too lazy to react, or he had, hidden somewhere no one knew about, some sense of humour. His reaction, at least, had nothing to do with what Remus inspected. After a short moment of silence he simply let his head fall back amid the pillows, and laughed.

Remus needed a moment to recover. And, as far as he was aware of it, he had never heard Snape laugh before. Had anyone, really? Surprising the bastard could laugh at all.

"You're brave and stupid, but then I'm not surprised. Do you really want to know?"

Remus nodded, and Snape held out his free hand into the general direction of the Dragon Ember bottle, which came flying straight away. Using more magic than actual movements he refilled his glass, took a sip, and sent the bottle back to its former place.

"Well. This here, as you might have guessed, is a place of all sorts. First, it's a bar with bad liquor and horrific prices. Next, it sells illegal substances to those who enjoy or need them."

Remus felt rightfully included in the description and nodded, sipping on Dragon Ember himself. He felt that he had about half an hour more of lucidity before he would undoubtedly descend into drunken idiocy. Which was fine, by him. Snape, who seemed pretty sober if you didn't count his very out-of-character cheerfulness, continued.

"On another level this is a market. Trade is done, trade of all kinds. You can get anything here. If you're more into muggle things it might be women or weapons, varieties of drugs, stolen artifacts and such things. You need a burglar, here is one. You need someone to get rid of an enemy, sure, here's the right man for your task. It's a web, of course, extending far beyond this den."

Snape took another sip of Dragon Ember and continued.

"People of all colours do their dealings here, the good ones, the bad ones, it's all the same. You need something, you pull a string, and see what comes crawling your way. I've used this web for various things for a long time, be it for the order, for the Dark Lord, for myself, it always works out."

Curiosity got Remus once more, and he interrupted the monologue.

"For yourself?"

The only critique Remus got for his interruption was a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Sure, you really think I only work for others all time? I first stumbled upon these localities and people because I wanted something I couldn't get in any other way."

Remus listened carefully, but he wasn't satisfied.

"What were you looking for?"

The eyebrow shot up a bit more.

"Curiosity killed the wolf, anyone ever told you?"

But Remus only grinned, and Snape took a long drag from his pipe and shook his head.

"You're insufferable. What did I want, illegal and dangerous ingredients mostly. Dabbling in exotic potions here and there, some black magic added, what people tend to do when they are young and too curious for their own good."

Remus got the hint and stayed silent.

"Well. These days I mostly use this place and its web of connections to get information. Its become my trade to know things, you could say. Which makes me exotic, because people here tend to want more substantial things. It also makes it easy to obtain them, as hardly anyone here knows the value of what they tell me. But then they do want something in return, and money doesn't always cut it. No one knows for sure who I actually am, which is very beneficial in itself."

Snape seemed quite smug about that.

"So who do they think you are, then?"

Another sip of Dragon Ember. This stuff started to taste better than Remus ever thought it would.

"Mostly I pretend to be a rather low ranked Death Eater, someone looking for connections, someone bored and unimportant, and it works astonishingly well. They come crawling out of the woodwork, all the little traitors from the Ministry, looking for their fix of power, thinking they are dealing with the devil itself when they clink glasses with me. That's what Albus currently is most interested in, obviously. You need a traitor to find the traitors, quite funny if you think it through."

Thinking Remus did. He was fascinated listening to Snape's little lecture of Spying One-Oh-One, noting even somewhere that Snape had slipped from his rather tempting drawl into his more matter-of-fact teaching voice. Head of the house all the way, even when half-pissed. Remus grinned.

"So that's what you give when they don't want money? And it works?"

For a second Snape seemed miffed. Then he waved another smoke ring towards the ceiling.

"Don't be so surprised. Sex has nothing to do with attraction, if you look at it from a point of view outside of your tiny romantically infested mind. Sex is about power, mostly, about establishing hierarchy. It can also be used as torture, a powerful weapon in itself. That is one of Voldemorts' kinks, by the way."

Remus took a drag from his pipe, but it had gone out during Snape's lecture. He stared at it as if it had attacked him. What did Snape think he was? Of course sex was about power. Never been a werewolf, ha?

"Do you think I'm stupid? Of course I know that. Packs establish hierarchy through mating, if you weren't aware of that."

But Snape only shrugged.

"Then I don't need to explain myself further, I guess."

They fell into silence. Needing more force then he ought to Remus pushed himself upright and towards the edge of his divan. Carefully he held his pipe into the heat aura of the oil lamp, waiting for the opium to reheat itself.

Snape didn't seem to watch him, his gaze fixed to the ceiling and the smoke circling there. With slow and deep breath he smoked his pipe, inhaling the opium deep into his lungs. For a brief moment Remus wondered if he was the only one in the room who needed the drug, or if Snape had already spiralled down into something that might not really be addiction, but maybe a doorway to forgetting what he had done and kept on doing.

Welcoming the earthy and flowery scent into his lungs once more Remus sucked on his pipe. Oh, he could see how one would get addicted to that. The soft fumes in his body and mind, taking the edge of his thoughts, rendering the world round and squishy, making even Snape look less on edge and relaxed. It was a fine stuff, indeed.

Remus sat back again and observed Snape once more.

"When did you find out that it worked this way?"

Snape's pipe seemed to have gone out, or was empty, because he took it out of his mouth and with the wave of a hand send it flying towards the little table, where it settled down with the other used pipes. Now Remus was positively jealous of that kind of magic. He couldn't even think about the right spell to do that with a wand, but that might have had something to do with the fact that his mind was currently occupied by cotton wool and Snape himself. Damn him.

One of the fresh pipes lifted itself up and floated into the direction of Snapes outstretched hand.

"Long ago. Guess I was about nineteen. Obviously it was the Dark Lord's idea."

Snapping his fingers Snape lit the pipe with the tiny green flame dancing above his thumb.

"Seriously, I got that you're a cool wizard and all, yes? Stop it."

Snape looked up from where the pipe was carefully balanced close to the flame, but not straight in it. He grinned, again.

"Jealous, are we."

Remus growled in his throat, but kept himself in check. Instead he stared at the Dragon Ember bottle, which not very helpfully remained where it was and didn't move an inch. But Snape noticed, and the bottle lifted itself off the ground and slowly floated into Remus direction.

Angrily Remus stared at the floating alcohol and then at Snape.

"Rub it in, will you."

Snape was still grinning. He hadn't moved an inch, hadn't even lifted a hand or muttered something. Wandless, motionless and noiseless magic - Remus hated the git fiercely for a moment. Then the alcohol was too tempting, and the plucked the bottle out of midair and refilled his glass. He sat it down again on the floor, and it remained there, stable and steady. But then his glass started to hover, and now annoyed he saved it before it flew out of reach.

"Damn you, Snape!"

But Snape only took another drag from his pipe and still grinned.

"Don't you worry, Lupin. I'm as damned as they come."

He didn't even sound particularly sad about that, rather matter-of-fact, realistic about himself. It wasn't a mere figure of speech, Remus realized. He meant it.

While he was still thinking through if it was something to be accepted if someone considered themselves damned, the odd sensation that everything was just so funny came back into Remus' head. Just as it had before he had opened the curtain everything suddenly seem laughable, yes, downright ridiculous. Wasn't it amusing? Wasn't it funny?

And so Remus couldn't help but to pluck the pipe from between his teeth and giggle.


	6. Welcome to my truth

Leaning back into the pillows of his divan Remus gasped for air. It was all just so incredibly funny, the whole thing. The den, the pipes, the alcohol, it seemed to come out of a strange movie where Remus had suddenly taken a leading role, but without a proper script. What was he even doing here? A drugged up wolf!

And the sudden pillow talk he was having with Snape? Of all people on this planet? How did that happen? He had known the git for half his life and wasn't even on proper first name base with him! Remus tried to calm himself, draw a steady breath - that he supplemented with a drag from his pipe, one always had to take one's chances - and suppress the laughter rising up in him again. And why did it seem that the place where his brain used to live inside his skull seemed to be filled with cotton wool? Very strange.

"You're giggling like a fifth year reading magazines underneath her table."

Snape didn't seem to react towards opium with laughter. But he was rather relaxed, at least compared to his usual demeanour. Comfortably stretched out on the divan his eyes were fixed to the ceiling, watching the smoke curl and dance there.

"It's not that bad, really. I was just thinking that I've known you for such a long time and we've never talked."

Without turning his head Snape raised an eyebrow, his usual facial expression for the unspoken sentiment of I-can't-belive-you're-really-that-dumb. Remus continued to grin.

"Which seemed like a good idea to me."

But Remus shook his head. The cotton wool that had replaced his brain bobbed up and down inside, a funny feeling that made him giggle once more. He liked talking! Especially when Snape had that really low and soft voice. No, wait, what?

"Don't be a knob head, Snape. Severus. Why does no one use your first name?"

Snape sighed and exhaled another smoke ring that halfway up took the shape of a teapot.

"Why would you want to do that?"

Remus shook his head again, feeling the cotton wool bounce against his eardrums from the inside. Now that was something new. He watched the teapot float upwards.

"Because it's a nice name. Also sounds almost like mine. Pretty teapot."

The teapot had already dissolved into the general cloud of smoke. and Snape seemed to try to keep his face under control.

"Obviously it would sound like yours, given that both derived from the same cultural and historical background, and -" He interrupted himself and threw a sideways glance at Remus, who beamed at him with an expression that cleared announced that he was high like a broom.

"Nevermind. Do what you want."

Remus nodded enthusiastically. He hadn't had any other plans, anyway. Severus simply groaned and shook his head.

"Albus owes me, that's for sure. Never thought you'd get high that quickly."

Again Remus nodded, now with a slight roll of his head so the cotton wool inside rolled around the inside of his skull. He wondered what colour it had. Maybe if he could extract some from his ear he would - but Severus' appalled glance as he voiced his desire made him drop the idea. To make up for it he giggled a bit.

"Sorry. I just never, you know, ever had something. Drugs. Or stuff. But if it helps, well. Are you sure about that?"

Severus drew some smoke from his pipe into his lungs and send the now empty pipe back to the table as he had done with the previous one. Immediately the last fresh one from his stash glided towards him through the air.

"Of course, I double checked everything. Extensive research."

Just as fascinated as before Remus watched the procedure of Severus lighting his fresh pipe over the flame dancing above his thumb.

"Extensive research? Within three days?"

Closing his fist the flame vanished again, and Severus placed the pipe between his thin lips. Then he shook his head.

"Nay, been working on that for much longer. Just needed to confirm small details."

A little voice in Remus' head told him that this was an interesting piece of news.

"You've been working on opium and the wolfsbane? Or painkillers and wolfsbane? You saw that coming?"

Somehow that idea didn't seen that hilarious. He fiddled with his own pipe, the third and last for that evening.

"No, I didn't. I researched pain killers and their side effects and such for a while, couple of month, something like that."

Oh. Remus was relieved. But then the tiny voice in his head, almost drowned out by the sound of fluttering cotton wool, didn't shut up. Maybe he should make a little joke.

"Cool, why? You were bored? Harnessing a little addiction, maybe?"

But Severus didn't laugh. He didn't even smile or grin, or raise an eyebrow. He only started up to the ceiling, carefully smoking. His glass of Dragon Ember remained untouched. Remus felt his own laughter die, and the little voice in his head told him to press on. What was that, curiosity incarnated? Underneath probably candy-coloured cotton wool?

"How often do you come here?"

He couldn't let it drop, although he knew that he was treading dangerous waters now.

"Not very often. Haven't been here in the past month. Opium is a high-potential painkiller, but it has its limitation."

If the drug made Remus giggly it made Severus talkative. The little voice underneath the cotton ball made Remus press on.

"Limitation? What? I don't get it."

Severus snorted ungracefully and shook his head.

"None of your business, anyway."

Ha! He had no idea how persistent Remus could be. Sirius might have warned him, had they been on speaking terms, but now he was at Remus' mercy, and that wasn't a good place to be if you wanted to keep your secrets.

"Does Albus know?"

And without knowing it Remus had discovered what probably was the only pressure point he would ever find in that cold and well composed mask. Severus remained as calm as ever, but the way he didn't answer spoke volumes.

"So he doesn't. Fine. You tell me, or I tell him that something is up."

The glare Severus shot in Remus' direction would have frightened lesser souls to death, but Remus was a werewolf and high, and he didn't give a damn.

"You wouldn't."

Now Remus grinned, suppressing the giggle rising up in his throat again. This was going to be fun.

"Oh yes, I would. Don't make me prove it. Now, tell me. What's up?"

Severus growled something that seemed like 'insufferable bastard', but remained still.

"Come on, you can still save yourself from Albus' prodding and my sincere devotion to your person."

Trying to give his voice a very reassuring touch Remus continued to lure his companion into the trap he was already in. Severus growled again.

"Fine, if you really have to know, Merlin's bones, you're goddamn noisy. It's not even exciting or secret. I'm dying, are you happy now?"

Remus, a second ago happy about his success in getting a secret out of Severus, stopped dead in his mental tracks. It seemed as if his bones were suddenly covered in a thin layer of ice.

"You, what?"

Sever positively scoffed. "You said you wanted to know, now deal with it."

Trying to get the cotton wool to make more sense Remus shook his head.

"But, why? How? Severus!"

But Severus, calming down from his slight rage, sucked on his pipe again. Then he exhaled a rather boring cloud of smoke.

"Don't fret, it's fine. Just a bit of too much Cruciatus from various hands, nothing too bad, shouldn't take long now. Opium used to keep it in check, a bit."

Remus tried to breathe. "But?"

Suddenly a bit sad Severus looked at the pipe.

"Doesn't work as it used to. It's fine, there are other things."

Other things? What were other things? How could that be fine? And what did too much Cruciatus exactly mean? But suddenly Remus brain knew, knew everything about what happened if too much Cruciatus was inflicted upon a person, remembered the Longbottoms, crazy from torture and pain, locked up in St. Mungos for ever or at least until death freed them. He had to draw a few breath of air to return to his reality.

"Cruciatus kills your mind, doesn't it?"

Not looking at him Severus nodded, and then shrugged.

"Yes. But first goes your neural system, your internal organs, and only in the final step your mind is torn apart, and you descend into madness. But usually you die before that happens, and that's what's going to happen for me. I'll be dead before I'm crazy, or at least I hope so."

Remus realized that he hadn't wanted to know that. But his clouded brain also realized that Severus meant it when he said he hoped he was gone before he was crazy. A man whose mind made up so much of his identity, who was famous for his sharp wit and who wielded his brilliancy like a double-edged sword - descending into bland madness must be very high up on Severus' list of nightmares. It was for sure high up on Remus', who knew what it meant to have your capability to think torn from your body, how it felt to be transformed into something that was pure drooling instinct and not human any more.

With a single gulp he drowned a glass of Dragon Ember.

Now the impulse to laugh was gone for good. All the remained was the cotton wool in Remus' brain, right now when he needed his mind the most. Damn.

But then he took some more drags from his pipe, and the opium calmed him down considerably, making him more relaxed. It was okay, somehow. Hadn't Severus said it was okay? Maybe it would be.

"So how does it feel?"

Severus let his head drop back into the pillows.

"Not as bad as one might think. If you're used to the pain and such. A bit tiring, really."

Nodding Remus inhaled another breath of opium. He had wondered about that, if he was honest.

"To die, to sleep no more, and by a sleep to say we end, and all that, I guess? Well. Any regrets?"

Apparently Severus had not been prepared to have Shakespeare quoted on him. He almost choked on his pipe, coughed frighteningly long, and finally regained his composure. Watching him fight for breath Remus once more noticed how thin he actually was, something even his clouded cotton wool could connect with the new things he had discovered.

"Somehow I didn't expect you to read poetry."

Happy with the effect Remus smiled, and forced all the quotes rising from the cotton wool back down. It wasn't the right time to throw Frost, Burns and Yeats at Severus. Maybe some other day. He almost felt happy again with delight. Opium wasn't a drug that gave him consistent feelings, that was for sure.

"I read a lot. Guilty pleasure and such."

And it was true, Remus did love books. Being a werewolf had banned him forever from getting any higher education, but he had been a good student, and his grades had always been top-notch. Well, maybe not in Potions, but then competing with Severus wasn't an easy fight. In some subjects he had even been the best one, and his final exams had proven it. And from then on it went downwards. Well, who wanted to employ or train him? No one did. But the books remained, and with them the promise of beauty, of hiding from the world between the rustling pages, forgetting what he was in someone elses' story.

"I remember you having a book about you, back then. Good habit, for once."

Remus smiled again and remembered another student who always carried a book with him, who practically lived inside them. Now he guessed that it might have been for the same reasons he himself had.

"It's not like you weren't fond of books, back then."

Snape grinned, and the next smoke rising up took the shape of a teacup.

"Still am. Got quite a library at Hogwarts. Yes, don't look at me like that. You can come and borrow things. Just bring them back, and leave Black at home. I'm not fond of pets."

Remus bit back a scathing remark and fought the impulse to defend Sirius' honour. It wasn't the time and place, especially since somehow he had to get home again, and he wasn't sure whether the cotton wool in his skull would be keen on apparating. Oh dear.

"Thank you, I'll take you up on that. Now, back to my question. Any regrets?"

Silently Severus shook his head. But he didn't speak for the next minutes, not a single word, and Remus wondered whether his question had been to personal or if the opium had reached the other's brain as well. What colour would the cotton wool inside Severus' head have? Black? Green? Something with silver glitter on it? It was a profound question and Remus mused over it with such intensity that he nearly missed the answer.

"Nothing one wouldn't think. Somehow I always hoped to see the Dark Lords fall, although it was unlikely. But, yes, I guess that's a regret. I'd like to see him fall and be gone forever."

Remus snapped out of his musings and glanced at Severus again. Lying on his back he balanced his pipe between the fingers of his right hand, but his gaze was fixed on his left wrist where the Dark Mark was burned into his pale skin. Remus couldn't see his eyes, but the sadness in his voice was almost palpable.

"You'd like to get rid of that, right?"

He couldn't look away. Somehow he hadn't noticed the Dark Mark sooner, maybe because he was mostly seeing Severus' right side from the way the divans were placed, or maybe it had been concealed it before? Remus didn't know. But he had never seen it before. Severus always kept it hidden from sight, concealed beneath shirt sleeves, tucked away underneath fabric and spells.

Severus shrugged, as firmly as a man lying down could.

"That's idiotic wishful thinking. It'll never go away, these things don't. Even if it weren't visible it would still be there."

Remus' curiosity was back, and that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

"What does it feel like?"

Another stream of smoke rose to the ceiling, a giant snake gliding through the air and vanishing into nothingness. Remus shivered.

"It doesn't feel like anything. At least not right now. When he calls it burns, of course, as if someone poured oil onto your skin and set it ablaze."

Of course, that was what he knew. The burning sensation, in any case. He had seen it a few times himself, the way Severus stood around somewhere, and suddenly a short wince went through his body, just for a second a display of intense pain before he could tuck it away and conceal it underneath his cool exterior, excusing himself to go wherever he had been called. During order meetings it had happened, once, twice maybe. Severus was a careful man, and it had never been the display of clutching-one's-wrist Remus would have expected from everything he had read in the newspapers.

"But is it, I don't know, like a tattoo? Because it looks like a tattoo, you know?"

For a moment Severus critically looked at his own wrist. Then he shrugged again.

"Don't think I've ever touched a tattoo."

Remus tried to describe the way the dark lines in Sirius' skin felt, but he didn't get far. His words weren't compatible with the candy-coloured cotton wool.

"Well, you see, it feels like nothing special in particular, though there is something, and it is kind of - I don't know, I was just wondering if it feels the same or different. Cold, maybe? Like a burn mark or a scar?"

Severus raised an eyebrow and took his pipe from his lips.

"For Merlin's sake, if you're that curious you might as well touch it."

Surprised Remus blinked. Now that was unexpected. But Severus had already gotten himself into an upright position, sitting on the very edge of his divan, the pipe still between the long fingers of the right hand, his left wrist outstretched. Scrambling into a seated position himself Remus placed his pipe down on the little table, bent forward and very carefully as if he was handling a porcelain doll took Severus' hand into both of his own.

The cotton wool in Remus head started to bounce around uncontrollably, in synchronisation with his heart beat.

Severus' skin was cool to his touch, not as soft as Remus had expected. From up close he saw the little calluses on his hand, marks from years spent working with potions. His fingernails were cut as short as possible and impeccably clean, but many little cuts were everywhere, dried blood shining through too pale skin. On his thin wrists the veins were clearly visible, even underneath the Dark Mark.

Concentrating Remus bent forward, all the time feeling Severus' completely unreadable gaze upon him. Then he, very carefully, touched the black lines burnt into the skin.


	7. Rumors of impending doom

At first Remus felt nothing in particular. The black lines underneath his thumb were simply lines, and while he was tracing them nothing felt different from all the tattoos he had touched in his life. Well, maybe most of these tattoos had been more beautiful. Who in his right mind would have a snake and such an ugly skull inked into his skin?

Only slowly he realized small differences. What he felt underneath his fingertips weren't lines brought into the skin with ink but burn marks, etched into living flesh with fire. If he concentrated he seemed to still smell burning flesh, but that was a trick of his mind, wasn't it? It must have hurt, a small part of Remus cotton wool brain whispered. Much more than a tattoo ever would.

And then he felt the soft tingle. A cold sensation, as if thousand icy needles were simultaneously prickling underneath his finger tips. Something told him he had to close his eyes, very briefly, but all he could see beneath his eyelids was a darkness encroaching upon him, panic crawling up his spine. Something telling him to run as long as he still could, while he knew that there was no place to hide. They would find him. He would. The hair in the back of Remus' neck stood up, and he drew his hands back suddenly. Rubbing his fingers he examined them briefly, but the burning sensation had left not traces on his own skin. Still the hopeless feeling remained.

Severus had anticipated this reaction and retreated calmly back to his own divan. Blinking a few times Remus opened his eyes and willed his uncontrollable heartbeat to slow down. Carefully he took a breath.

"What the bloody hell was that?"

Severus shrugged, relighting his last pipe over the small green flame.

"What do you think?"

He didn't think. He really didn't want to know. He just wanted the sensation in his stomach to go away. But he knew that what he felt was more than real, and much worse, coming towards them. They were at war, after all. although they tried not to think about it too often. Maybe that was a mistake.

"How does it work?"

Inhaling the opium again Severus stretched out on his divan once more.

"Nobody knows. One of the few masterpieces Voldemort created. Albus tried to figure it out for a long time, did all kinds of strange experiments, but never really got to the core of it. Only thing I know is that it draws its power from his magic as well as from my own, building a connection that way."

Remus contemplated that for a while. To occupy his hands he relit his burnt up pipe carefully over the oil lamp. It was his last one for that night, and he wanted to savour it as much as he could. Reclining in his divan with the rekindled pipe he leaned back and stared once more at the smoke still circling underneath the ceiling. How could smoke be that visible? The chamber was small, but that small?

Smoking slowly he let his thoughts run at their own pace. Severus had succumbed to silence in his usual position, fully stretched out, feet in black boots crossed at the ankles. His head had dropped back into the pillow, black hair spilling over the red and brown fabrics. His gaze was fixed to something in the cloud of smoke, but Remus realized soon that he wasn't really present. He wondered to which places the man's mind had wandered, but he suspected that they weren't brightly lit and cheerful.

Severus had been serving his masters for quite a long time. Remus wasn't sure exactly how long he had been with Voldemort, but he knew that the man started to work for the order over a decade ago. Betraying Voldemort and surviving it was a feat not many had accomplished. With a shudder Remus remembers the death of Regulus, who had come to the same conclusions as Severus had, but had paid for it with his life. Sirius had never gotten over his younger brother's death.

Life was cruel and people died. They lived in dark times, Remus was well aware of that, thank-you-very-much. It was mostly by accident that he himself was still alive, that was true, and Severus had just admitted to dying slowly from whatever He-who-was-a-bastard was doing to him. Why could nobody ever be saved? James, Lilly, Regulus, Sirius from the torture that his time in Azkaban was, he himself a damn monster, it was just so unfair. Peter changing sides like it was nothing. Severus dancing on that thin line between two masters. Remus felt his hands clench to fists.

"You are growling, Lupin."

Oh. He hadn't realized. Carefully he unclenched his hands, flexing his fingers.

"Didn't mean to. Was just thinking. It's all so damn unfair."

His slurred speech told him that the Dragon Ember was finally getting a good firm hold of his vocal cords. The cotton wool in his skull moved without sound.

Severus laughed silently.

"We were an unlucky generation, if that is what you mean. But so are others."

Lost in thought he raised one of his hands and waved it seemingly aimlessly around in the air. Remus, whose gaze went from Severus back to the ceiling saw the smoke assembling there, and suddenly the silhouette of a castle was visible. The towers and bridges, flags in the wind, it was clearly Hogwarts, build out of smoke and a little bit of added magic. Remus blinked surprised.

"From teapot to castle?"

But Severus said nothing. He just continued to stare into the cloud, and Remus followed his gaze back up to the ceiling and watched the castle floating there. The flags waved cheerfully in the invisible breeze, birds could be seen flying away, owls carrying mail, sparrows circling through the sky. If he watched intently small smoke figurines could be seen walking about. Remus was speechless.

The scene didn't stay that cheerfully. The clouds of smoke seemed to darken, what looked like a thunderstorm entrenched the castle, and soon lightning struck, ripping the flags apart. In the end nothing was left of the castle but ruins, above it a skull ablaze in the sky, death and destruction. Voldemort.

Remus shivered.

"Just wanted to say it was a pretty spell, but I take it back. Not an optimist, are you?"

Severus snorted, his eyes still fixed to the slowly vanishing ruins he had painted into the smoke with an invisible hand.

"Doing my share of divination."

Although the small castle was gone the skull still seemed to glide underneath the ceiling. Remus pointed at it.

"Make that go away, I don't want to see it."

Severus snorted again.

"Of course you don't want to see it. Nobody wants to see anything, that is my damn point all the time."

A wave of Severus' free hand and it was gone. The smoke seemed to cease its endless circling, the cloud becoming more and more invisible. So there had been magic at work, probably from the very beginning.

"What are you talking about?"

Severus inhaled the last bits of opium deeply, and then took the pipe from his lips and waved it back to the little table. He exhaled smoke, throwing a glance at Remus. There was something like a hint of anger in his husky voice, a small flame burning Remus hadn't picked up on before.

"There is a war coming, and it's much closer than you - I don't mean you, I mean the order, but you're a member, so whatever - that nobody wants to see. Or talk about. All they can talk about is how Potter will save us all, that it's going to be fine in the end, all will be well, and we'll live happily ever after. Stupid and wrong. You're all going to die if you don't start to fight. And I mean you, not the children. They are going to die anyway, and if you make it you will have to live with the fact that they had to sacrifice themselves for some greater cause they didn't even understand. But, nevermind. No one is listening to me anyway. Just do whatever you want. I'll be gone before it will happen anyway. I should stop caring."

He fell back into silence, but he was visibly angry and Remus realized that he had just been the recipient of something Severus wanted to tell the order as a whole, but couldn't. The opium dulled any emotions Remus might have had, and so he managed to think that through without flying into a fit of rage himself. And somehow Severus was right: the order wouldn't hear him out, ever. He didn't speak during order meetings at any case, not unless it was absolutely necessary. Everything he said, no matter how he phrased it, always unleashed some kind of verbal war with Sirius or Mad-Eye, or someone else who felt the calling to make sure that Severus knew exactly what he was and why that made him an outcast nobody wanted to listen to. Sometimes Remus noticed that Albus voiced whatever Severus wanted to say, but usually Severus kept silent. He couldn't get it right anyway, not matter how legitimate his concerns might be.

"So you do care?"

Calming down slightly Severus shrugged.

"I've seen what happens when wars are being fought on the back of children. This shouldn't be their war, it's ours. It's fine and dandy if I decide to die for this thing, but my students shouldn't. What do they know about this? Nothing."

What Severus didn't say but Remus heard was that they had promised to protect them, and they couldn't. But nobody could, that was the problem. Sighing Remus remembered how young they themselves had been, back then, when Voldemort first rose to power. How they had picked sides mostly because their friends and fathers already had, and they felt it was right to stand by their side. Severus hadn't been twenty when he joined Voldemort, and suddenly Remus wondered why he had done it exactly. Nobody knew. But he couldn't ask.

There were so many questions in his head he would never get an answer to.

Suddenly he felt very, very tired. The point where the opium had made him lighthearted and happy, prone to giggling, was gone. The cotton wool in his brain rolled around aimlessly, becoming more and more sticky as if it were covered in fine candy threads woven around sticks one could buy at the fair. He tried to remember the word for those, but he couldn't.

His last pipe wasn't empty yet, and so he just kept on smoking carefully and slowly. The smoke cloud now was hardly visible anymore, and Remus eyes had nothing in particular to look at. After some wandering around the bare room they feel on Severus again, who had fallen back into complete silence. He had replaced the pipe with a cigarette he balanced between his fingers.

Severus had been one of the few students who had picked up smoking in their sixth or seventh year. Remus couldn't remember when exactly, but he knew precisely when he had noticed. They had met him one night on the grounds, where they were - against the rules, of course - because Sirius had taken up smoking the summer before. It had something to do with being cool, Remus guessed, and he didn't like that. But then he had gotten used to accompany Sirius outside, and they had spent many an evening sneaking out to find a place so that Sirius could lighten up and they would sit and talk for half an hour or longer, usually much longer than the cigarette lasted. They had all the time in the world. On one of these occasions they had been carefully sneaking across to the lake when Sirius had stopped dead in his tracks and pointed. On the shore of the lake a tall and skinny figure stood, barely visible in the light of the half-moon. Only the tiny red dot of the cigarette glowing in the dark betrayed his presence fully. They stopped and stared, only moments later realizing who it was, and changing directions. Only briefly Remus wondered why Severus had been out that night, on the shore of lake all by himself and apparently lost in thought, and how they hadn't realized before that the unpopular boy had picked up another bad habit.

But he had never reconsidered this. Or anything about Severus. First the boy and then the man had simply been there, the one whom he had almost killed, the build-in antagonist. At least that was a role he still played these many years later. They had never really spoken. Remus had no clue if he actually liked Severus, if they shared their taste in literature or wine, if Severus preferred coffee or tea, or even when the other's birthday exactly was. All he knew was what Severus showed the world, a cold mask, dangerous temper and unreadable eyes.

Well, but then he had certainly seen something new that night. And he liked it. He recalled that dark purr, the slightest hint of sex in Severus' dark voice, but also the clear words. The effortless way with which Severus weaved his spells, magic dripping from his fingertips like water. He wondered how he would fight, which spells he used, if he was a creative fighter or lazy and cruel. He thought about Severus working with potions, creating something powerful and potent with his hands and knowledge.

Remus' gaze slowly traveled over Severus' motionless body, stretched out on the divan, eyes open but unseeing. If the other man noticed he didn't give a sign of disapproval. But then Severus was used to being fully seen, making his presence known wherever he went. Someone who had no problem with others staring at him, who always stood his ground with his head held high. Remus had never seen him step down from being challenged. Everybody who was up for a fight had known that, back then and even now. A force to be reckoned with, authoritative, and powerful.

And the wolf had a thing for authority, Remus had to admit it. It was a kinky thing, and it had cost Remus many a chance with a girl, because it clashed badly with his usual demeanour. He was a nice guy, the friendly one, always smiling and helpful. But the wolf was quite a different animal all together, and Remus couldn't always harness the beast in him easily. The wolf was hungry, didn't mind whether the body in his bed belonged to a woman or a man, sometimes bite and scratched. Maybe that was the reason while Remus had never been in a relationship for too long, had never found anyone who could cope with him being careful and gentle and then rough and hungry.

Remus watched Severus smoke, looking at him as if he had never seen the other man before. His gaze took inventory, for the first time ever deciding if what he saw was something he'd like to have. Very long, thin legs. Expensive clothing, well-cut, dark and heavy fabrics. Long torso, but with wide shoulders for his physique. Far too thin, and although Remus of course couldn't see it through the many layers of clothing he was sure that one could count Severus' ribs. If one managed to talk him out of his clothing, that was. Remus shrugged the thought away and continued. Head tipped back into the pillows, exposing a far too pale and too tempting neck, Adam's apple and all. The familiar profile, crocked nose - broken, how often? why? by whom? - deep-set dark eyes, prominent jawbone. High cheekbones, very visible, and Remus suspected he could cut his hands on them. High forehead, and black hair all over the place. Well, he certainly needed a good haircut, that was for sure.

He recalled the rough hands of the man Severus had just met that evening trailing down that jawbone, touching the too visible collarbones, and somehow his mind wondered what had happened then. If there were still marks. And from there his thoughts continued to wander. So Severus did like women and men? Or was that a one time thing, something he had to do in order to get what he needed to have? Did he only fulfill his duty, or was there some pleasure in that for him? Did a cold man like that have that, pleasure? And if yes, what did someone had to do to make this bloody velvet voice drop even lower, to hum with pleasure, and good grief, how would that sound?

At that point Remus firmly refused to think further. But he also came to the conclusion that, well, he sure wouldn't turn Severus down if - no, wait, what?

Had Remus really just deemed Severus to be, well, fuckable? That was the opium. Certainly. He was high like a kite. He would never, ever, in his long life, no, never -

But before he finished his sentence Severus dropped the remaining bud of his cigarette into a previously hidden ash tray on the floor, pulled a delicate pocket watch from his vest and checked the time. Putting is back he pushed himself upright on an elbow, turning towards Remus.

"If you're finished with smoking and staring we should consider taking this somewhere else."

Positively a purr, dark and husky, and soft like velvet.

Oh Merlin's boner, yes, yes, he would. He definitely would. Although he tried not to think of what exactly he meant with that.

Carefully Remus put the last empty pipe on the small table, nodded, and tried very carefully to breathe. He wasn't very successful.


	8. I can't stay much longer

It took Remus a solid three minutes to regain his composure. In the meantime Severus had moved himself fully into an upright position, combed his hands through his hair once and regarded Remus with a facial expression that was as the same time very innocent and incredibly smug.

Remus felt like wiping it off his face, and, while he was there, either breaking his nose once more or kissing him. Hard.

As if he could read his thoughts Severus grinned and stood up. He cleaned up his appearance, closed the buttons on his collar and rolled down his shirtsleeves. While he fitted the buttons of the cuffs back into their holes Remus tried to push himself upwards so he was sitting on his divan.

He found that disconcertingly difficult. Opium and Dragon Ember, it turned out, was a really bad combination. The whole world was spinning in front of his eyes, and he rubbed his hands over his face. Whatever erotic subtext had been in his mind was buried underneath the very sticky cotton balls all at once going into motion.

Taking reasonably paced breath he tried to calm his stomach. Severus, on the other hand, calmly picked up his jacket and slipped it on. That bastard. How could he be that composed? From his place on the divan Remus eyed the bottle of Dragon Ember.

It was empty.

Remus groaned and buried his head in his hands, careful not to upset his unhappy stomach further.

He heard Severus stifle a laugh.

"Yes, I thought so. Do you think you can stand up?"

Remus growled something not quite polite, dropped his hands and very carefully stood up. Standing fully upright he had to wait a moment, willing the world around him to stop spinning. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Severus' amused face, but also that he stood close enough to catch and stable Remus should he fall. That somehow saved his feelings from dropping into a teenage-style fit.

Breathing in and out the world slowly came to a full stop.

"Okay, yes. I'm fine."

Severus sniffed out the light of the oil lamp with his fingers and nodded.

"Good. Now, instructions. You'll leave this chamber, walk through the main room without falling, stumbling or being sick on anyone, and wait for me on the street. I'll take care of the everything and meet you outside. Did you understand that, or do I need to rephrase it?"

Huffed Remus nodded. He was drunk and high, but not stupid! For a moment he considered informing Severus of that, but the sticky cotton wool decided to start moving uncontrollably again, and he felt his stomach clench. Pure willpower was all that kept him upright. Why did Severus insist on moving? They could just stay there and, well. Get to know each other a bit better.

"Splendid. Then go ahead. Or wait a minute."

Remus hadn't even thought of moving. It seemed like a very daunting task, that. At least the cotton wool calmed down a bit, leaving him with a bit more space for thoughts than before.

Suddenly Severus was very close, standing directly in front of him, and Remus felt his heartbeat speeding up again. He had no idea what was suddenly happening. With a quick but precise movement Severus patted his shoulders, and while Remus was still confused by the close proximity of their bodies, stole his own wand out of Remus' robe.

Then he was gone out of Remus' immediate personal space, and pocketed the wand again in his own coat. Remus blinked confused. How had that happened so quickly? He could still feel Severus' hand on his shoulder and how his long fingers had brushed his chest for a very short second. Suddenly Remus was happy for his wide robes. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

But Severus already motioned towards the curtain. Then he waved a hand once around the room, and Remus felt a change of atmosphere. He understood when Severus put a finger to his own lips. Silence until they were in Hogwarts. Well. Remus could cope with that. He somehow prefered it when Severus shut up anyway.

Walking was a completely different story from standing around unmoving, as Remus soon discovered. He stalked towards the curtain, carefully trying to keep his balance and momentum. Forcefully he tore it to the side and braced himself to avoid whoever might be in the corridor. But it was empty, and Remus relaxed a bit and set himself in motion again.

Seconds later he stood in the open main room, surprised that nothing had changed at all in there. The same mugglejazz was floating through the air, the walls were still hidden in magical shadows, and the strange man behind the bar polished some champagne glasses. The only differences were the two men elegantly seated on the bar stools, with elaborate cocktail glasses in front of them, one holding a cigarette between long fingers covered with black leather gloves.

Remus avoided looking at anyone, but out of the corner of his eyes he saw heavy fabrics in dark colours, and in one case long perfectly groomed silver blonde hair over a high collar. He didn't care to check. Just as he had been told he stalked through the room, avoiding any form of eye contact or even lifting his gaze from the floor. Walking was difficult enough in itself.

Then he finally reached the heavy door, pushed it open with far more force than necessary, and stumbled out into the night.

He had made it! Without falling over his own feet!

Proud he took a few more steps forward, but then was glad that he found a street lamp against which he could prop himself in what he thought was a very elegant and poised way.

Now relaxing a bit more he cast a few glances up and down the street, trying to look as unconcerned and aloof as possible while checking if nobody was in sight. But nothing was moving, and Remus felt very relieved. He wasn't sure whether he would have been able to cast a simple spell, yet defend himself properly.

Waiting he examined his surroundings once more. It was still the same dirty and dark street, but now Remus wondered whether anything else might be hidden on the empty and overgrown plots next to the almost crumbled down house the opium den was in. He couldn't sense anything, but then hiding magic was generally and by nature difficult to trace, and he was still feeling rather uncomfortable.

He waited far too long for his taste. Severus seemed to take his time with whatever he was doing. Sorting everything out, he had said? Oh. The bill. Was opium expensive? How much money did Remus even have in his robe pockets? Well, he'd have to pay him back tomorrow. At least he knew precisely where Severus lived.

Or not. He had never been in the other's private quarters. Wrecking his mind he wondered where they even were. Nowhere even close to the dungeons, he knew that, but where exactly? Maybe in one of the lesser visited towers? Or tucked away somewhere else? How came he didn't know? He had been invited to anybody elses' rooms, had had tea and cake at Albus' beautifully laid out but hopelessly crowded living rooms, had enjoyed whiskey nights in front of Minerva's splendid fireplace. But were the Head of Slytherin House resided was a mystery to him. Strange.

The speed of his own thoughts made Remus queasy again. Carefully he tried to stabilize his breathing. Looking up from his post at the lamp he let his gaze wander across the night sky, but all he saw above him was the dirty city night London boasted as her own. No stars, and thankfully no moon.

Then suddenly steps were close to him, and Severus appeared in his vision. A questioning glance later he stood right next to Remus, ignoring his rather haphazard way of clinging to the street lamp.

"Can you apparate?"

Remus blinked. He wasn't entirely sure. Technically he could, but - he couldn't even finish his thought. Severus, apparently running out of patience, had already taken hold of Remus arm and the familiar feeling of being thrown in the air and dumped on the ground again whisked them away.

Seconds later they stood on the same forest clearing as they had hours before. Remus carefully opened his eyes, inhaled the clear and calm air, smelled the scent of the wood, the trees, and just in time managed to turn around before he emptied the contents of his stomach right into the nearest bush.

Apparating had been too much, that was for sure.

When he was done he carefully straightened himself again, wiping his mouth with his hand and for all the world felt ashamed for behaving like a teenage boy not being able to hold his liquor. And opium. Well. He wondered whether he had a clean handkerchief in his robes, but was mostly positive that he hadn't.

Still suddenly one appeared in his vision, dangling from long fingers. Without any ceremony he took it, and cleaned his face before pocketing it. He would give it back properly laundered.

"Uh, I'm sorry."

Severus, standing only a few feet away, shrugged.

"I've been waiting for that. Can you walk?"

Now feeling weak on top of tired and decidedly unsteady Remus tried a step. Well, he wouldn't run a marathon that night, that much was sure. Severus closed the distance between them with easy steps, seemingly at all unaffected from opium, alcohol and apparation.

Remus gritted his teeth. How on all earth did the bastard do that?

He was pulled from his train of thought when a little vial with a dark blue liquid appeared in front of his eyes. His reflexes seriously slowed down he took it.

"What's that?"

Hopefully something to get that horrific taste out of his mouth.

"Something to calm your stomach. Drink it, and then we'll get you back to the castle."

Remus eyed the opaque liquid, and Severus crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"If I had wanted to poison you I would've done so two hours ago."

That was a logic Remus understood. Peeling the cork off the vial he downed the liquid in one gulp. It tasted fresh, of soft mint and water, and instantly helped calm his upset stomach and buzzing head. The empty vial vanished from his hands and was unceremoniously stored back into one of Severus' pockets.

"Now let's move."

Remus nodded carefully, took another step, and almost felt himself loosing his balance. Whatever had happened to his sense of direction, it wasn't nice.

Then he heard Severus sigh dramatically, mumble something inaudible, and then to Remus' surprise move in closer. Without further ado he draped Remus' arm around his own waist, supported him across the shoulders and got them both moving quickly.

Slowly, but steadily they made their way through the forest. The night air was soft and balmy, and the warmth of summer almost touchable. It would have been a beautiful night to enjoy, had he not been in the need of being almost carried back to his rooms. But Remus refused to embarrassed just yet. Tomorrow, yes, but not now. He still needed to move, at any rate.

And moving they did. Remus was surprised how effortless Severus took half of his body weight, but he suspected that it had nothing to do with physical strength and everything with precisely placed spells.

Soon they reached the open grounds and the castle stood before them large and inviting. Although most windows were dark Remus felt the feeling of coming home rushing in on him. The flags were alive in the night breeze, and the stars were clearly visible out here. For a moment Remus remembered the images in the smoke he had seen just moments ago, the ruins and the floating skull. What if that were to come true, soon? What if all of this would be gone? He had nowhere to go.

Shaking his head carefully he chased the thoughts away. They were too grim. But at least they kept his mind occupied so he was not thinking about the fact that he was now awfully close to Severus.

So close, actually, that he could feel how much of a skeleton the man had become. Or maybe always been, Remus wasn't quite an expert on that. Sadly. But he could feel Severus' hip bones underneath the few layers of soft fabrics that were still in place between Remus' arm and his skin. The man had not even a hint of bodyfat, Remus was sure of that. All skin and bones, nothing else. How had that happened?

But Remus' mind remained erratic, too affected by the mixture of drugs and alcohol to keep to one coherent line of thought. His very sensitive and decidedly inhuman sense of smell was slowly recovering from the assaults of the opium den and the sudden sickness in the forest, and underneath the smoke and alcohol oozing from them both he smelled, well, Severus.

That in itself wasn't special. Everybody had a very distinctive smell, after all. It had been one of the first things Remus had ever noticed after his transformation, waking up on the hospital bed. His mother's very particular scent had been in his mind before he reopened his eyes, a mixture of baked goods, lemon cleaner, book dust and sunbleached grass. From there on he had learned to catalogue the scents of people. His mind was a gigantic database of them, every little detail neatly labeled and placed accordingly. He was able to name people he had met before with close eyes and covered ears, and if he knew anything about someone he could make good guesses even if he had never seen that person before. No matter how often someone showered, how many layers of artificial perfume someone piled on, their own smell would always seep through in the end.

And it tended to betray something about the person. Sirius smelled of caramel, mostly, and tar and autumn rain. James had been fresh-cut grass, sunflower seeds, and roasted mushrooms. The odd thing about Peter had always been a note of burnt butter on toast, and a hint of fresh-cut wood. Albus smelled of lemon curd, coffee and burning silk, a very strange combination.

Somehow there wasn't an entry for Severus in his internal sensory database. Strangely enough, but maybe they had just never been close enough. But now they were, and Remus' nose sorted through the various smells around him easily.

There was the opium and the cigarette smoke first. Then a hint of Dragon Ember, and the cedar wood Severus probably kept in his closets to repel any hungry moth from eating away on the expensive fabric of his clothing. Then lavender, like everybody who wore undergarments laundered by the houseelves of Hogwarts. They just loved lavender, and it was the base note for the entire castle. Remus could always tell when it was laundry day.

But underneath all of that Remus recognized other scents. A bit of well-dried fire wood. Ripe plums. And, most prominently, tea. Earl Grey, to be specific.

He had never met anyone who smelled of Earl Grey. There was a hint of strong Assam about Minerva sometimes, and his father had smelled of English Breakfast with too much milk, but Earl Grey? It was a beautiful combination of earthy but strong tea notes, combined with the citrus aroma of bergamot oil. What a strange combination. He had expected Severus to smell more of potion ingredients, maybe something awful, or a hint of vinegar.

But it was Earl Grey, and Remus loved Earl Grey. It reminded him of breakfast outside in the summer, of afternoon tea in an elegant café, of nights curled up at home reading in front of the fire.

But before he could follow through with the line of thought they arrived at the Great Portal, carefully climbed up the stairs, and the large doors opened in front of them guided by invisible magic.

They were at home.

At the foot of the great staircase Severus made motions to extract himself from Remus.

"I guess you can take it from here on."

Without thinking Remus groaned and shook his head.

"Oh, no, not feeling well."

Well. It was only about half of a proper lie. Remus really didn't feel well. Although, if he had too, he would've made it back to his own rooms without too many problems. But the scent was so nice.

Sighing Severus placed Remus' arm back around his waist, and they climbed the large staircase. Without asking he steered them into the direction of Remus' private quarters, and they arrived in front of his front door not much later.

There they stopped, and Severus once more carefully tried to free himself from what became more and more an embrace that was probably far too close for his taste and likening. But he had no chance.

Slowly Remus straightened himself without letting go, placed a hand on the door and mumbled his private password.

"Flowery Orange Pekoe."

The door opened without a sound. Out of the corner of his eye Remus caught a disapproving glance.

"You don't like my password?"

Severus would have shrugged, had not Remus' arm on his shoulders prevented it.

"At least you're not using french words for confectionaries you can't even pronounce properly."

Remus took the hit against Albus' strange selection of passwords, nodded, and they moved through the open door.

Using a whispered spell to turn on lights Remus steered them through his small hallway and living room directly into his bedroom. The thick carpet muffled the noise of their steps.

Visibly happy about being at the end of their journey Severus extracted himself from Remus' grip, this time with success, and left Remus standing on his own.

"So, good night."

He was already turning around and moving towards the door leading into the living room when Remus caught his arm, in a motion so fast that he was surprised he was still capable of it. Suddenly halted Severus turned around again.

"What is that about, Lupin?"

Remus grinned, trying to make himself look a bit less intoxicated and confused. He had no intention to let Severus go, not yet. It wasn't even early morning. They had all the time in the world, right?

"Why are you leaving just yet? No hurry."

Well, he had intended to sound a bit more, hum, lascivious. Instead the words came out slightly slurred, and not quite as smooth and seductive. But the surprise suddenly painted on Severus face was decidedly worth it.

Remus took the chance of the moment and started to busy himself with the top buttons of Severus' shirt. He was surprised by the fact that he still had enough coordination to actually manage to get two of them loose, exposing pale flash and collarbone. Standing so close to Severus again the scent of smoke and Earl Grey was almost overwhelming, and Remus felt his senses tingling.

When he was done with the third button and reached for the fourth, the one just above the dark waistcoat his endeavours were halted. Severus own long fingers curled around Remus', carefully removing them from his person. His facial expression was unreadable.

"I think you should go to bed."

Remus blinked. Well, he wanted to go to bed, just not alone. Remus stared at the pale skin he had already exposed by his endeavours to open up the buttons. He liked Severus' skin color, he decided. Too pale, maybe, but somehow tempting.

On a second glance he saw the large black bruise, running down from Severus' collarbone, still mostly covered by fabric.

"What's that? That from tonight?"

Severus reacted as if Remus had caught him red-handed. Without even touching the buttons he ran the hand that he didn't need to keep Remus in check over the button band, and everything was closed up and in order again. But somehow Remus still felt as if he could see the black and blue bruise, even through the fine white fabric, and he knew that bruises like this needed much longer to be that visible.

"Doesn't matter."

A bit too quick he took a step back, and released Remus hands completely. That almost threw Remus off balance, as he had been ever so discreetly leaning on Severus to stabilise himself. Reacting quickly Severus caught him again, but this time immediately forced him to take three steps backwards, where Remus hit the frame of his bed and rather ungracefully sat down.

Letting go of his hands Severus took a step back, now positively out of Remus' reach. Then he reached into one of his coat pockets and produced another small vial that he placed on the nightstand.

"Drink this tomorrow morning, it'll save you a headache."

Remus nodded, and then shook his head.

"Really, you'll let me sleep alone after all this promising talk and purring?"

Severus was already halfway to the door, but he paused shortly.

"Never said anything about being your company tonight, Lupin." Then he grinned rather malicious. "Let me also take the liberty to inform you that you're quite intoxicated, and I guess that would rather, ah, harm your performance."

Remus fought for words, but found none. Trying to check himself he rather noticably stared onto his own crotch. The devilish grin on Severus face grew.

Now smiling a bit sheepishly Remus looked up again.

"Okay, you might be right. Let's go out some other time. Don't know, but the summer is long, right? And then there's other days. And vacations. Got plans for christmas yet?"

He felt very brave, basically asking Severus for a second evening. The cotton wool approved.

But Severus simply shook his head.

"No. Good night."

That absolutely wasn't the answer Remus had wanted.

"No, come on - christmas, what about christmas?"

But Severus was already halfway out the door, and only turned around one last time, looking over his shoulder.

"Christmas?"

Remus nodded fiercely.

"Yes, christmas. You like christmas?"

Severus shrugged.

"Doesn't matter. I'll be dead by then. And now go to sleep, for Merlin's sake."

And then all Remus heard were muffled steps on the carpet, and his door closing. Severus was gone.


	9. No smoke without fire

The next morning was as beautiful as a summer morning could be. The light of the morning sun danced upon the fresh green grass, the sky was as blue as it really rarely was in these parts of the world, and the day wasn't yet as hot as it would be later. There were even birds singing in the Forbidden Forest, at least for a few seconds, until something lurking in the dark found them and all that was left were colorful feathers dancing through the air.

Remus didn't give a damn about all of this. His curtains firmly drawn shut, his bedroom in merciful darkness he slept like only the dead and very intoxicated tend to do.

Until Sirius Black decided that it was time for him to get up, that is.

The familiar knocking was so loud that it even made its way into Remus' dreams, playing the part of a large gong that someone banged right over his head. Two minutes later the door to the bedroom was rather forcefully thrown open, and Sirius stalked into the room as obnoxious and cheerfully as he could. With a ripping sound he threw the curtains open, and Remus couldn't crawl underneath his blankets fast enough.

Curled into a tiny ball he prayed to whatever saints where listening to severely hung-over werewolves that Sirius would simply vanish. Or leave and come back three weeks later.

But Sirius had different ideas.

"Good morning, sunshine! How are we on this splendid, wonderful, sunny day?"

The mattress under Remus body squeaked as his best friend plonked down on the edge of it, and Remus covered his ears with his hands and growled.

"What are you saying? Extending greetings to me on that fine day? Oi, mate!"

And with a tug Remus' protecting blanket was gone, leaving him exposed to far too much sunlight and the smug happiness of his friend. Painfully aware of the brightness Remus curled up tighter upon himself, hoping that the headache pounding in his skull would simply go away. His mouth felt as if something had died inside it last night. Maybe his dignity.

"There he is, the great Remus, who obviously consumed too much of everything. How was it, come on, wakey wakey?"

Pressing his eyes shut Remus growled again.

"It's past noon already! Come on, get up. A cold shower will help. Tell me, how come you're that hung over? Does the git drink alcohol, seriously?"

The gods hated Remus, that much was for sure. But it seemed as if neither Sirius nor the sun would vanish anytime soon. Very, very carefully Remus pushed himself into an upright position. Why couldn't he just die?

When he carefully opened one eye Remus stared directly into Sirius beaming face, and as soon as he could he closed it again. His brain tried to kill him.

"What's that, by the way?"

Slowly opening both of his eyes Remus saw a blurred vial in Sirius hand, and with reflexes slow as a snail held out one hand.

"Open, please?"

His voice wasn't quite what he was used to, but it worked. Sirius looked confused, but carefully uncorked the vial and handed it to Remus. With one gulp he downed the liquid. Like cool water it ran down is throat, calming every ache on the way down, and minutes later Remus felt his head slowly clearing up. The pounding headache became less and less intense, and his light sensitivity decreased. Severus must have had one hell of a youth spent partying if he kept these things in stock, that much was sure.

Rubbing his face Remus sat up a bit straighter, handing the vial back to Sirius.

"Much better. Morning."

Looking at the empty vial in his hand Sirius smirked.

"What's in there?"

Remus shrugged.

"I don't know. Severus gave it to me last night. Works like magic."

For a moment Remus could almost see how Sirius contemplated either plundering Severus' private stock or charming the potions master into voluntarily handing over a year's supply of this miracle cure - an endeavour that wasn't ever going to work out in any rate. Taking advantage of Sirius train of thought Remus slipped out of bed and locked himself in his bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later they were both on their way to the Great Hall. Showered and dressed Remus felt much better. It was going to be a hot day, but the hallways and halls of the castle were still cool and Remus was glad that he had picked a sweater together with shorts.

Sirius was overflowing with questions, and Remus carefully tried to answer them without giving anything away that he wasn't willing to share. In accurate detail he described the den, the patrons and master of the house, the light and music and smells, the pipes, and how one smoked them correctly. He spoke at length about the taste of the opium, the effect on the brain and the general feeling of being high from it, but skipped on the most important parts.

He hadn't yet decided on a course of action. Last night his feelings had been crystal clear, but also powered by opium and alcohol. In the bright light of the day he wasn't that sure anymore.

Arriving in the Great Hall they found it almost empty. It was already well past noon, and lunch was closer then breakfast. But to their surprise the table was still filled with breakfast food, and between the honey and the teapot Albus Dumbledore sat hidden behind the Daily Prophet.

"Good morning, good morning. What a lovely coincidence. Tea, Remus?" Nodding Remus took his seat and wrapped his hands around the cup of steaming hot Earl Grey. Nobody saw his small smile. Sirius reached for the coffee, took two croissants and busied himself with the jam selection.

"So, did you have an entertaining evening?"

The question was innocent and Albus' eyes betrayed nothing, but Remus picked up on a hidden second layer and nearly choked on his tea. Coughing into his hands he nodded. Albus smiled.

"I'm glad. Severus was confident this morning that the opium should work in the way he anticipated. He said your little outing was rather uneventful, but I guess I should ask about your stomach."

Uneventful? Remus' stomach? That bastard. Remus gritted his teeth and tried not to choke again on his tea, taking slow sips and eyeing the breakfast selection on the table.

But of course Sirius was instantly curious.

"Your stomach? Did you - oh no, you were that drunk? Really?"

Remus growled, mumbled something he didn't really wanted Albus to hear, and looked for the toast.

"Pass me the bread basket, thank you. It was a lot of alcohol, okay?"

He ignored Sirius broad grin, but it was Albus' small smile that really annoyed him. With more verve then necessary he bit into a piece of buttered toast. The git would pay for that.

"You're still not good with that, Moony? Really? Come on, you're not fourteen anymore!"

Sirius was positively snickering, but Albus placed a hand on Remus' arm.

"Don't worry, I'm not mocking you. Severus told me that three pipes are a very high dosage for someone who had never taken anything before."

Then a rather devilish smile crept over Albus face.

"And if it helps, I threw him out of bed very early this morning, and he wasn't entirely unaffected himself."

Considering how sober Severus had been the night before Remus wasn't convinced by that. But the thought that Albus had kicked him out of his bed early cheered Remus up remarkably.

Breakfast went by with easy banter and talk, and Remus repeated most of his observations and musing on opium and the den to Albus, while Sirius pestered him with more questions. It was tiring telling both everything and leaving out the most important parts, but he hadn't spoken with Severus yet, and he was sure that he had seen much more that night then he was supposed to.

Keeping other people's secret was a rather unpleasant business, but that wasn't something he hadn't known before.

Half an hour later Albus excused himself. But before he was gone he smiled down at Remus once more.

"Would you mind sharing a cup of tea with me later? I'd like to speak to you about this and that. What about we meet at four in my office? Our house elves have been trying their hands in making eclairs, and you absolutely have to try them."

Remus nodded, and feel his stomach churn at the same time. The unnamed liquid had worked extraordinarily well, but the thought of cream filled french confectionaries made him want to run for cover. And he had the distant idea that Albus wasn't going to ask him about his work for the upcoming school year either. But he couldn't help but smile and nod.

They spent the few hours between breakfast and Remus' tea appointment at the lake, lounging in the shadow of the trees and from time to time cooling themselves in the water. The giant squid kept it's firm distance after Sirius had bitten into a sneaky tentacle last week, and they paddled through the cool blue water watching the sky and enjoying the sun.

But it was four sooner than Remus liked. With barely dry hair he made it to Albus' door just in time, putting a hand on the gargoyle and trying to remember the password. He had no clue. But then Severus' voice in his mind said something snarky about french confectionary, and biting back a grin Remus said "Chocolate Eclair" and the statue moved.

All of his culinary nightmares came true as he arrived on top of the rotating stairs.

Albus sat behind his desk, in front of him a gigantic french teapot, two delicate glass cups with saucers, and a mountain of cream doused, sugar covered chocolate eclairs.

Remus basically heard his stomach beg for mercy.

Seating himself in the chair opposite of the large desk he took the offered cup and examined the tea. It was greenish, very light in colour and smelled of lavender and verbena. Carefully he sipped, finding the taste mild and pleasant.

"It should do wonders for your stomach. I took the liberty to pick a few herbs and prepare it just a few minutes ago. Our selection in the greenhouses is excellent, and I still know a thing or two about alchemy."

Complimenting the tea Remus settled back, carefully avoiding to look at the horrific sweets in front of him. Albus spared him for now.

"I guess you had a very interesting evening last night beyond the things you told me at breakfast."

Carefully putting the cup down again Remus nodded.

"Oh yes, it was very interesting. I mean, I have obviously never been to an opium den before, and then I don't spent much time with Severus."

Albus nodded, carefully levitating an eclair from the mountain of vascular despair onto a dainty plate.

"Yes, I guess that's true. Severus isn't very sociable. It doesn't go well with his role here, and also isn't inherent in his character. A pity, I find, as he's quite a good conversation partner, obviously well educated and extensively interested. Alas, in this time and age we won't benefit much from it."

Remus thought about that and then decided to nod. Albus was probably right, although he wasn't sure how the headmaster managed to overlook that Severus wasn't really not-very-sociable but rather presented himself like a scathing sociopath nobody who valued his mental and physical health should try to come close to.

But then Remus had seen something else that night. The damned smiling and purring, the witty remarks and pictures in the smoke. The large bruise on Severus' skin, bones underneath well-cut fabric hiding so much. Nothing fitted together into one picture. It just all didn't make sense anymore.

"Well, I don't know really. But the opium certainly made him a bit more easier to talk to."

Albus took a bite from his eclair, carefully trying not to cover his entire beard with chocolate, and enjoyed the sugary sweet for a moment. Remus still tried to ignore the pastries.

"You should have an eclair, they are wonderful. You see, I've known Severus for such a long time now, and even I sometimes mistake his many masks for his real person. It's difficult to tell them apart. But it is worth it. Are you sure you do not want to try at least one?"

That confused Remus so much that he took an eclair to buy him some time, and then was busy with trying to eat it without ruining his shirt.

Mercifully for him Albus switched topics, and they spent the next thirty minutes with relaxed chat about the life in the castle in summer, any plans the staff had, whether it was a good idea to have the breakfast outside starting next week or not, and if the Daily Prophet was right with its prediction of the hottest summer they had seen in the past twenty years.

Finally the teapot was empty, and Remus picked himself up from his chair. The sugar made him a bit giddy, but his stomach wasn't too content with the amount of cream and tea. Albus waved goodbye, but just as Remus reached the door he called him back.

"You do know that you can always come to me and tell me if there's something eating away at you, yes? Please feel free to call on me if you need advice. I just wanted to say it once again."

Remus smiled, nodded, and hoped that he hadn't betrayed anything he wasn't read to tell Albus just yet.

"Yes, of course. Thank you. By the way, can you tell me where I can find Severus? I need to thank him for last night."

For a short moment Albus watched Remus over the rim of his glasses, and Remus suddenly felt rather transparent.

"Of course. I guess he's in his private laboratory in Serpens Tower. It's close to his private quarters."

The Serpens Tower - really? That big thing where only storage rooms were? But it did make sense, after all, that the Head of Slytherin would keep his residence somewhere no one would ever think of going.

"I never even knew where he lived. And I don't think I've ever been there."

Albus smiled.

"Yes, it's rather secluded. The Head of Slytherin always lived in the dungeons, but Severus hates darkness and he's sensitive to the cold down there. Serpens Tower belongs to Slytherin House as well, but nobody used it for decades. Rumours had it that there was some evil spirit in there, but either Severus made peace with it or he scared it away. I favour the latter option, if you ask me."

Remus could only agree and made his way over to the tower. It was one of the castles turrets that everybody knew was there but nobody ever thought about. Rising above the part where the Slytherin Common Rooms were located the tower was clearly visible from the outside, with a flag flying on the pointed roof, but just like Raven Tower it had mostly been out of limits for the students as far back as Remus could remember. It made sense for Severus to inhabit it, as it was firmly out of the usual areas and as easy to access without drawing attention to one's movement.

Five minutes later he arrived in front of the door Albus had designated as Severus' private lab. On his way up the stairs he had already appreciated the beautiful view over the grounds all the way up to the forest and then much further. If Severus' own rooms were even higher up he must have the best views of the entire castle.

The heavy wooden door resonated with Remus knock.

But nobody opened. Even five minutes and some intense knocking later everything remained calm. Sighing Remus turned around and made his way down the corridor towards the stairs again.

He was almost there when his sensitive hearing picked up on soft footsteps on the stairs, and he grinned. He hadn't made the way up in vain, it seemed. Propping himself up against one of the window frames he waited.

Not two minutes later Severus appeared at the top of the stairs and made his way down the corridor. He wore an opened lab robe, slightly torn and very stained, obviously used since a long time. The sleeves went down to his elbow, and his arms were bare with the exception of an old grey and frayed piece of cloth that was wrapped around his left wrist, covering the Dark Mark. For a moment Remus wondered whether he wore it to hide it from others or from himself.

Underneath the opened lab robe Remus caught a glimpses of a rather worn grey t-shirt with a print that looked like it had been a university seal once, black trousers that were just a hint too loose and surprisingly heavy boots. Even Severus seemed to make concessions to the summer heat. For a second Remus contemplated what it would feel like to lazily fit a thumb between the waistband of Severus' trousers and the skin, just to see how loose they really were. And then to improvise from there.

But Remus didn't have much time to contemplate Severus or his wardrobe. With a few more steps they stood facing each other, and Severus didn't seem very pleased. With another quick glance Remus realized that he looked very tired, but generally unchanged. Incredibly pale as ever the dark rings underneath his eyes seemed more obvious than usual.

The smell of verbena hit Remus like a wave, and he needed a few seconds to see the bunch of freshly picked herbs in Severus right hand. His nose combed through the fresh scent, and underneath quickly found Earl Gray, ripe plums and wood.

Instead of cursing he smiled.

"What are you doing here?"

To Remus' displeasure the husky tone in Severus' voice was gone.

"I wanted to say good morning. And thank you for taking me with you last night."

Severus seemed sceptic, but shrugged.

"It's almost early evening. But you're welcome. Good-bye."

And with that Severus made attempts to leave, walking towards the door to his laboratory. But he had underestimated Remus gravely.

With a smooth and fast movement Remus blocked his way. Surprised Severus stopped, rising an eyebrow.

It was Remus' turn to grin maliciously now.

"Fascinating. Do you suffer from amnesia or something?"

Severus eyebrow went up even higher.

"I'm not sure what you are talking about. Care to enlighten me?"

There was a hint of disapproval in his voice, and a very faint warning that he wasn't a very patient man. But Remus felt determined and slightly suicidal.

"With pleasure. I saw a lot of things last night that I didn't like, but I also saw things that I liked. And I learned things. It was a very instructive experience."

Remus smirked. He started to like this game.

"I don't think you saw anything. But I do belive the opium was too much for your brain."

And with that he turned on his heel and moving out of Remus' reach stalked away towards the door.

But Remus wasn't done.

"Oh yes, I did. And the things I know now, it's very impressive. Who would've thought that you're playing your act so well? Barely holding together, are you not, bloodied and bruised. Dead by christmas, you said? Really, I think Albus would like to know such things, would you not agree?"

It was his best card, and he played it well.

Severus stopped, and very slowly turned around. He didn't bother to hide his slow burning anger.

"Are you threatening me?"

Remus smiled as relaxed as he could, feeling a small dose of adrenaline drip into his bloodstream. Oh yes, he liked that. Toying with the man who played with about anyone was a real feast.

"Oh no. That wouldn't be nice, would it? I would never do something like that."

He placed a bit more sweetness in his smile and tried to look as concerned as he could.

"Look, I'm only telling you what I could do, just so you can adjust your behavior accordingly. Nothing more, you see. It's all fine. We're all friends here."

He positively knew he was in very dangerous waters now. Severus was still too surprised to do much, but it seemed rather advisable to Remus to remove himself as far as geographically possible before the man recovered from his shock of suddenly being blackmailed by a half-witted good-hearted Gryffindor.

"So, I will see you around. Have a good day."

And in a fit of serious insanity he blew Severus a kiss, winked, and then turned around and stalked off as quick as he could. To his surprise no curse flew down the hallway. Apparently the strategy of shock and awe had worked.

When he reached the stairs and the tilt of the building allowed him to glance backwards he saw Severus still standing there, staring contemplatively into nothingness, and probably coming up with plans to have Remus die of a tragic accidental and very painful death in the upcoming week.

Remus was still grinning when he reached the end of the stairs and the familiar corridors leading to the Great Portal. He felt much better now. The opium had done its work inside his brain, he was sure, and he was looking forward to a long, hot, and very interesting summer.

Playing with fire, after all, had always been one of his favourite pastimes. And where there was smoke there was always fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (c) Fayet - 29/8/2014
> 
> TBC.. in another story. This is the final chapter for "Smoke". Thanks for staying with me, hope you enjoyed the ride. With about 1,300 hits so far I'm pleasantly surprised to find so many people reading this - and I had a hell of fun writing this thing once more!
> 
> What started off being merely a simple translation turned into a story of its own, with a slightly different plot and remarkably changed characters from the german original. It's fascinating how things develop a will of their own..
> 
> "Smoke" is the first part of a multi-chapter trilogy (of which I'm currently writing the last chapters of the third part in the german version - if anyone coming over from "Honig" is reading this, people, I'm really sorry. I had to get "Smoke" done. New chapters soon, promise). The second part is finished in german and has about 25 chapters. I'm considering doing a translation as well, if anybody is interested. I might do the first chapter and put it up to see what happens.
> 
> "Fire" goes from where "Smoke" leaves us, with Remus plotting to get what he wants, using rather creative methods and a suddenly developed interest in all matters alchemy. Severus is a very reluctant object of desire, Albus plays matchmaker, and Voldemort is a bastard.
> 
> You like? Let me know.
> 
> (Fyi: this is cross-posted from ff.net, where I use the same author name as here. In general my ff.net account updates about a day or two earlier then here, so head over there to see if there's anything new.)

**Author's Note:**

> (c) Fayet, written August 2009. [English Version, Chap. I: June 19th 2010, edited August 2014]
> 
> The song "With a little help from my friends" obviously was written by the legendary Beatles, and I'd like to point out that it contiues as following
> 
> "Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends  
> Mm, I get high with a little help from my friends  
> Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends "
> 
> And now that we know we're talking about opium here I can tell you that the german original (to be found on ff.net) was named thus: "Opium". Didn't want to mention it earlier, felt a bit like a spoiler, you know?


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